She Cuts Herself!

She Cuts Herself!

          At first she brooded sullenly, feeling backed into a corner, away from the light of day and the joy of laughter.  Frustration, futility, hopelessness, then anger, vengeance, violence took over her mind.  She stepped back, shocked, briefly; but then it all turned inward.  This is how she got here.  He really cut her.

Jack and George just gave her a headache.  What would reassure her that she was still alive?  Her mother’s words just fell on deaf ears.  She could not even feel the pain anymore.  It started with a nagging paper cut!  Most of the new stimuli were hidden.  But, maybe she wanted to be found out?

“But, I bleed!  That proves I am.”  The excitement did not last.  She could pretend the pain is pleasure.  Such a liar!  She almost believes it, though.  But, I can remember real love.  The cuts are not caresses.  But what else do I have.  She does not like what she sees in the mirror.   And, the blues bring on the blood-letting.  In goes the gloom, and out comes the razor.

At a coffee-shop, from across the room, comes a tender glance.  “But, surely he knows how messed-up I am?!”  She looks back, and he’s gone.  She exits to the “ladies” room and opens her purse.  “Dammit, I have done it again!”  She unrolls the t.p. to stop the bleeding.  She hates herself.  Surely, everybody else does, also?!  People stare at her leaving.  “You people have no idea ... !!”

Nobody wants me.  Nobody needs me.  They will not use me, again.  I’ll make sure of that.  The scars will repel them.  I may slash a big one -- across my face?!  Everybody sucks.

Mama, can you hear me?  Don’t hang up.  I need to talk to you.  It … is … no … good.  Can I, please, come home?  I miss you, so much.

God, help us!