Blood red like wine dripping down my stomach. A red dotted line marks my skin. And why did I do this? Why did I rip my own skin with a blade? I dont know. I feel I needed it. I deserve the pain. A red mark that stings in the shower and iches when your clothes rub on it. Just a mark. Just a scratch. Just "one more and I'll stop" but we never do. They check your wrists. But silly fools we don't cut there. We keep it hidden. Something so scary and so evil can be hidden with the breath of a single laugh.
