If Only

School

This was the second book but I added it
————-

Nathan and I walked into school together on the dreary Monday morning when I wanted to stay home. When I parted ways with him and went to firsts period I waved and ran quickly up the stairs to the art room. I was always there early because it was my favorite class. When I got there some people were already there. Two people to be exact. One was a girl I knew, her name was Masie. The other was Megan. We have been staying out of each other's ways but we aren't friends by any means.

I sat down as far from her as possible and started drawing my picture. It was of half of a human face viewed from the side. I think I'm good at art. And I'm so engrossed in my work that I don't realize when the bell rings. The art teacher has to tell me to leave or I'll be late. I meet up with Nathan in 2nd period.
"What's shaking bacon?" Nathan asks and I smiled. He does this everyday. "Nothing Nathan but I'm not looking forward to this math class", I responded. He just smirked, he knew that math was my least favorite subject but it was his favorite.

Three classes later and it was lunch time. I already have homework from the first few classes and decided to start it during lunch. Nathan went to get his lunch and I asked him to get me an apple. When he came back I had already started on my science homework and he handed me an apple and a sandwich. I smiled up at him and started to eat the sandwich. "So do you want to hang out after school today?" He asked like he does everyday. I shook my head, "I can't and neither can you we have group today." He groaned and started complaining. He hated group just like me.

The rest of the day was okay. I had a lot of homework to do before tomorrow and very little time. I got home and got ready for group. I met Nathan at the street corner near my house and we walked together. Group was just a part of life. We were both doing better and stuff but it was mandatory to go. When we walked into group we sat down next to each other. We were always quiet here and I don't know why. Five minutes later the group leader started in on a speech about how we are all perfect. I zoned out until he said my name.
"Amanda would you like to tell us how your doing and something hard or difficult that's going on in  your life?" I smiled at him like your supposed to, "I'm doing terrific. Something difficult is well life. I mean it's always pretty hard just the whole thing. I can't really pick just one thing. I mean I'm in therapy for heaven sakes." I said with a little bit of mocking in my tone. I mean I didn't raise my hand I don't want to share. It's really simple.
            After group I high tailed it out of there before they decided I was mentally unstable again. Nathan was  right next to me in seconds with a smirk on his face. We were laughing lightly as we walked to my house. When we got there I found a note on the kitchen table saying my parents were both working late.
            Nathan had to leave an hour later to go home. After he left I did my chores and went upstairs to shower. I was grabbing my pjs off my bed when my socks fell and rolled under the bed a bit. I bent down to pick them up and stuck my hand under my bed. I felt a prick on the edge of my ring finger and pulled my hand back quickly. Looking at my hand I was indeed bleeding. I looked back under the bed and saw something somewhat shiny. I carefully pulled it out. It was small and I didn't recognize it for a second. It was one of my razors. It's been a while since I've seen one. I clean it up and decide to put it in my desk for safe keepings. I didn't intend to use it I've been clean for a while now.
              The razor had me thinking of all the bad times. While I was showering I looked at my thighs, at all the scars littering them aimlessly. I couldn't believe I did that to myself.  But at the same time I could. I used to be in a bad place, but I'm better now. 
           Three days go by before I think about the razor again. I'm sitting at my desk writing like I always do when I'm stressed or not feeling right. When I remember the razor in my draw and the sudden relief it used to cause me. Not even art and writing can do that for me. I open the desk draw and take the razor out. I turn it over and over again in my hand, trying to determine if I should. Weighing the pros and cons. In the end I put it back in the draw and just go to sleep. I can't tell if I just won or lost that small battle.