what would i do

C H A P T E R 2:

" H o l d o n t o m e .
I ' m a l i t t l e u n s t e a d y . "

She was shaking again. This time, it was not shivering from cold. It was not fear in her bones. It was sadness.

Grief.

Veretta was sobbing to herself in a locked up cubicle of her school toilet as she held onto the penknife in her grasp for dear life.

She did not care that she was going to be home later than usual. She could not care that she was going to leave with puffy red eyes. It hurt too much, and the pain blinded her from caring.

But yet she ached for more.

Veretta stared at her watch on the tile of flooring beside her, and laughed quietly to herself.

Who knew that something as innocent as her watch could hide a secret as dark as harming herself?

Taking the blade which she held in her hands, she went against the fore side of her seasoned left wrist. With gratification, she watched herself bleed. The metallic red liquid oozed out of the slits that she had made on her skin and it trickled down her hand to the tip of her fingers and onto the cold flooring, staining it.

Numb.

Still, Veretta did not snap out of her crazed state. The pain seared through her left arm, but she did not care. She could not bring herself to care as she advanced to the end of her shoulder, the part connecting to her arm.

She went ahead and repeated the cycle, this time, with blood running down her entire arm. But like earlier, she really could not care. She did not fight the pain. She let it ache. She let it burn. She let it hurt. Because she had to replace the excruciating emotional pain of numbness building inside her.

Agony.

Veretta started to tear, and her tears evolved into quiet sobs, once more. She dropped the penknife and herself too, as her legs gave way to the floor. She slumped, leaning against the wall, as she numbed the impact of her fall.

"I'm so sorry. It is all my fault..." She muttered, curling up into a ball as she hugged her legs closer to her body.

She broke down, and she did not care. Not that she ever cared that she was out right crying when she was down, but this was way worse. So much, that the slightest concern that someone might walk in had faded. If there was person who caught her, so be it.

She could not care.

It felt like an eternity had passed as Veretta sat in silence. That was when she heard the door creak, and that signalled that someone had entered.

She heard footsteps approaching her, but Veretta dismissed it as a girl in need of using the restroom. When she heard a knocking at the door, it threw her reasonably off guard.

A familiar voice spoke, "Veretta, it's Marion. Are you okay in there?"

Oh shoot, it's Marion. I can't dismiss her, that'd be rude. Veretta thought, as the sudden change of events drove her away from her apathy. She started to think of ways to mask her actions.

Marion, was a friend of Veretta's and Lycon's. In fact, it was Marion who had introduced Veretta to Lycon in the first place, during their first few months of choir practice.

"... Veretta, let me in." Marion spoke, her tone more solemn and firm than before. "I have a hunch that I know what you did. No point hiding it."

The apathic girl could only heave a sigh as she unlocked the door and let her friend in. The movement of her unexpecting arm sent jolts of pain, causing Veretta to flinch.