My Life is a Silent Hurricane

Chapter Four- First Attempt

Two uneventful nights later, I'm laying on my bed, this time with a new and improved cutting tool. A knife that I swiped from the kitchen. Just as I press down on the knife, crying, my 15 year-old sister, Sunshine (see a name pattern here?) barges in. "WHERE ARE MY-" she stops short when she sees my hurriedly trying to hide the knife and pull down my sleeves. "Oh, Storm." She says quietly. "What's wrong?" She reaches for my arm, but I pull away. She grabs the sleeve and pulls me closer to herself. She pushes up the sleeve, looking at the wounds from this morning and the small one from now. Then she hugs me. "It's gonna be okay, everything's gonna be alright," she assures me. I start sobbing.

"You're gonna tell mom and dad, aren't you, Sun? Please don't. Please."

"Well... How 'bout a deal? I won't tell them, IF you promise not to do it anymore. I catch you one more time, of see more fresh marks, I'm telling mom and dad." She declares.

"Okay." I say.

She squeezes my shoulders. "It's gonna be alright." She says again, before walking out and closing the door softly behind her. My stomach roars, and I realize I haven't eaten since the two granola bars last night. I peek in the mirror. Still outrageously fat. No way am I eating. I tell myself I won't eat for a whole week. I should be thinned out by then. I fall asleep, hunger pangs in my stomach, tears leaking out of my closed eyes.

I'm no longer afraid of the knife.

***********

It's 3 days later, just after school. My stomach is screaming at me, but I ignore it. I grab the knife, and cut deeper than ever. "Goodbye" I whisper to the air. I cut deep. I don't remember anything but screams, sirens, all seeming so far away.

************

I blink my eyes open. I'm in a hospital bed. There are tubes attached to my uncut wrist, snaking up to clear bags of liquid. My cut wrist is bandaged up tightly. I hear muffled voices outside the door. One is my mom's. It sounds panicky. One I don't recognize. It must be the doctors voice. "Cuts" I hear. "Dangerously low weight for a 12 year old girl."

My mom's voice now:

"How deep are these cuts?"

Doctor: "...pretty deep.... Bandages.... A couple weeks maybe... We want to keep her... Overnight..."

The door swings open and the doctor walks in. She has a waist-length light brown ponytail, hazel eyes, and a bright, bouncy step. She grins, and says in the voice I had heard through the door "Looks who's finally awake!!"