Broken: Emily's Story

5

The blade slices across my skin, running through ten to twenty older ones, causing them to bleed again. One was all I needed. But I draw more.

Blood falls on the floor, small drops. I let the cold feeling wash over me as more blood falls. I know this feeling isn't healthy, but I don't care. I just don't care.

I feel better, calmer. Like I did that day. I feel the pain and fear fade. I close my eyes.

After some time though, I clean out my cuts and wrap them. The white gauze looks out of place. It's too clean. Stark white compared to my angry skin. I pull my hoody back on.

I pick up the box and close it. I put it back in my pocket. I open the stall door and leave.

When I walk back into the classroom, he looks up. I make a point not to look at him when I walk to my seat. I haven't talked to or seen him since that day. And I wasn't planning to either.

I feel him watch me as I head back to my seat. I sit down and decide I can't take it any longer. I look over at him and put as much anger into my expression as I can. And I stare him down.

Eventually, he just looks away. I win. A small smile of triumph lights my face. My first smile in three months. There just wasn't anything to smile about. That thought erases the smile and I just lay my head on my desk.

Ten minutes later, I'm waiting anxiously for the bell to ring. My leg bounces in anticipation. I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to get out.

The bell rings. I'm up and out of my seat before it's done. By the time everyone else is up, I'm out the door. I open it quickly and leave, headed to the first floor.

Emily, wait, a voice calls, his voice. I ignore him and keep walking. I hear running. He grabs my shoulder and I yelp, half from fear, half from pain. I pull away, back away, get away. He looks confused and hurt.

Emily I'm sorry about what happened. I don't know what was wrong with me, he says. I hear sadness leak into his voice. A part of me wants to believe him, wants to just let him hug me. But he hurt me. I thought he had cared and I wasn't going to do that again.

No. Leave me alone, I growled. I tried to walk away but he grabbed my sleeve. It moved up slightly. I froze. Panic rose in my chest.

His eyes widen. Emily, what the hell? He asked. His voice was laced with panic and worry. I yank my arm away from him and run. I run out of a side door. The sun practically blinds me, but I just keep running.

I find myself by the willow again. I collapse on the ground and start crying. I'm shaking really badly. I'm lying on the grass, shaking and crying. I stay like that for hours.

I feel a hand touch my arm. I look up and see him. He looks genuinely worried. A part of me says he's pretending.

But if he was, why did he come find me?