Status: I'm getting pissed at the lack of comments here...
Flash Fiction
First Time Cut
It had been an absolutely awful day, and I really had no one to blame but myself. I stood in the shower aimlessly, letting the hot water soothe me. It didn’t do much good. My brain swirled with the overwhelming mishaps of the day. Stupid Catherine. I hate that bitch. Who the hell does she think she is? I am NOT stupid!
I clenched my fists in anger, my long nails digging into my palms. It hadn’t just been her, though. It had been all of them. Emily had laughed at me. Katelyn had criticized my outfit. Amber didn’t really care about what I had to say. Sarah and Kayleigh obviously didn’t want me around. Jessica practically ignored me. And then to top it all off was Catherine. I thought we were friends, best friends! But no. Best friends don’t mock each other in front of all the other girls. Best friends don’t call each other out. Best friends don’t prey on each other’s biggest insecurities.
Was I crying, or was it just the water? Either way, I was angry, and I clenched my eyes shut and dug my nails into my hands. My whole body and mind seemed to be trembling. I felt completely out of control. My trembling hands moved to my head, seemingly of their own accord, and I curled my fingers in my wet hair. I was afraid; I had never felt this way before, so shaky, spinning, out of control. My hands clenched over and over, and I wrapped my arms around myself for lack of anything better to do with them.
All my energy seemed to be transferred to my fingertips. I clawed at my chest like an animal. I scratched past the point of an itch. My skin became red, and I sucked in breath through clenched teeth. It hurt. It hurt terribly. My skin stung, and I could feel it ripping. I felt myself breaking. Finally blood appeared on my fingertips. It was gorgeous, a bright liquid scarlet that intoxicated me with its unnatural beauty. I wanted more.
That was a year ago. Since then, I’ve amassed a collection of sharp objects. I’ve cut over fifty times. People know, I’m getting “help,” but I still bleed. I still have the scars. They’re a reminder of what’s on the inside, the ugly, worthless girl I really am. A reminder of blood, and they make me want more.
I clenched my fists in anger, my long nails digging into my palms. It hadn’t just been her, though. It had been all of them. Emily had laughed at me. Katelyn had criticized my outfit. Amber didn’t really care about what I had to say. Sarah and Kayleigh obviously didn’t want me around. Jessica practically ignored me. And then to top it all off was Catherine. I thought we were friends, best friends! But no. Best friends don’t mock each other in front of all the other girls. Best friends don’t call each other out. Best friends don’t prey on each other’s biggest insecurities.
Was I crying, or was it just the water? Either way, I was angry, and I clenched my eyes shut and dug my nails into my hands. My whole body and mind seemed to be trembling. I felt completely out of control. My trembling hands moved to my head, seemingly of their own accord, and I curled my fingers in my wet hair. I was afraid; I had never felt this way before, so shaky, spinning, out of control. My hands clenched over and over, and I wrapped my arms around myself for lack of anything better to do with them.
All my energy seemed to be transferred to my fingertips. I clawed at my chest like an animal. I scratched past the point of an itch. My skin became red, and I sucked in breath through clenched teeth. It hurt. It hurt terribly. My skin stung, and I could feel it ripping. I felt myself breaking. Finally blood appeared on my fingertips. It was gorgeous, a bright liquid scarlet that intoxicated me with its unnatural beauty. I wanted more.
That was a year ago. Since then, I’ve amassed a collection of sharp objects. I’ve cut over fifty times. People know, I’m getting “help,” but I still bleed. I still have the scars. They’re a reminder of what’s on the inside, the ugly, worthless girl I really am. A reminder of blood, and they make me want more.
♠ ♠ ♠
This one was more autobiographical than the first two. Keep the story alive, leave me a comment!