I started typing before I could realized I was being dramatic. I told him I fucked up, which I had, but directly after I realized all I would do it worry him. He's too good to worry about someone as problematic as me. "What happened" he had replied. I didn't know how to play it off, so I tried to tell the truth. I was so ashamed of myself. It took everything just to say I had pulled some emo shit and that my father shouldn't let me around sharp objects. "Accidental or on purpose?" He texted. I looked down at my bleeding wrists. The first time I had even thought about doing this, yet there were so many slashes. The wound was shallow, but I knew the memory would cut deep. I couldn't let him know I was that level of weak. He would worry, he would lecture, he would make me talk. I sucked up my urge to tell him, it wasn't worth his worry, not at all. A tear escaped my red eyes as I slowly sent the message. "Accidental." I lowered the blade to a fresh spot on my thigh. I pushed the blade in, welcoming the slicing pain as he said not to worry him like that. I raised my blade and stared at it. I could see my reflection, but it was cut off by my own dried blood.
"Don't worry, I'm okay."
I quickly sliced a new spot. I winced at the pain. Just one more tally mark, to number my lies.
