Run Away With Me

My breathing was fast and shallow as I closed my laptop. I was lying to Frank and I didn't like it. I'd been avoiding him for so long and he didn't deserve it. He was so easy to read, at least to me. He was nice and sweet and kind, and what was I? Bitter and twisted. Frank was too good to be my friend. But he was too good for Kalli too.

Did that mean I was on the same level as Kalli?

That thought felt like a physical blow the stomach, and I slid off my computer chair, clutching my gut, groaning like I was about to throw up. I closed my eyes, doubling over and resting my forehead on my carpeted floor. I trembled all over, my groaning becoming louder. It was good Tessa was out or else she'd be dragging me back to the therapist.

A whimper escaped my throat. I hated Jen, my therapist. She was too nice, too nosy, too neutral. She didn't really care about me, she wanted rid of me, she just wanted the cash I brought in for her. I groaned again, feeling a wave of nausea roll up from my stomach. I staggered to my feet and headed to the bathroom.

I knew I would be sick, I was good at keeping that at bay. I opened up the medicine cabinet and pulled out my empty packet of tampons. Something I knew Tessa wouldn't look in. Sometimes she checked my en-suite toilet, but she was kind of good at avoiding girl talks like the ones about 'The Time Of The Month.'

I ripped open the packet and turned it upside down. A slim metal object fell out and clattered noisily to the bottom of the ceramic sink. I picked it up and my groaning quietened somewhat. I stared at the scalpel in my hand and sat it back down on the sink. Then I rolled up my jeans and picked it back up.

The tiny blade was cold against my calf as I pressed it against my skin. There was the familiar nip of pain as the skin slit open, then as I dragged the metal down my leg, the warm blood trickled down my leg and it soothed me.

I looked down at my work, pressing my finger to the wound, pulling the two bits of skin apart so I could see how deep it was. It was shallow, a superficial scratch. I put the point of the scalpel inside it, shoving it inside and gasping out loud as I felt nerves sever. Blood poured out now, red and glistening. Some of it congealed quickly, leaving a dry, flaky track down my leg.

My breathing sped up as I pulled the weapon down further, ripping open the wound more so and making it deeper. As pain ripped through me like never before, and the white bath mat underneath me got saturated with red liquid which streamed from me. I looked at the wound, finding it hard to focus suddenly. It was covered in blood, shiny and wet. I wiped it away but it was replaced so quickly, I just got a glance of ripped open skin and the pink flesh underneath.

I groaned again as I realized I'd gone too deep- I'd fucked up.

What was I going to do?