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onaipwolf

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I sit alone, curled up in a, in tight little ball, my arms wrapped around my knees. My head is down, my eyes closed. I can feel my body shivering, but it isn’t from cold. I can feel the blood gradually slowing as it drips down my arm. I had promised, I think to myself. I said I would stop. Little good words can do now. Tears spring at my eyes as I remember my declaration was a mere five days ago. I have no self-control. I’ve lost it somewhere along the way. I realize.

As the thought passes through my mind, and the desire to take up my blade again, and cut deeper grows. I succumb to its sweet call and pick up the bloodied knife again. I place it against the cut and press as hard as I can, drawing it across the wound that lies down the length of my arm. A trail of dark red springs up as I reach the end. The pain in my arm is still there, my body is screaming against it, but my mind is welcoming it, pure bliss. The best drug. I run the blade across my wound three more times, pressing as hard as I can each time. I finally pause and watch the blood flow again down my arm. I feel a vague sense of accomplishment for a few brief moments, as I watch it drip onto the floor.

I hear a banging on the door, and my roommate calling through it. “Are you almost done in there?”

“Yes.” I insist. Panic sets in as I survey my surroundings. There is a small pool of blood on the floor, and a few drops splattered on the counter from where I had set my knife. I rinse my arm off in the water quickly, trying to wash the blood down the drain. Leaving the water running, I fold my knife closed and drop it in the sink, letting the water wash it clean. I pull my black sleeves over my forearms to hide the cuts and grab some toilet paper to clean up the mess on the floor. I wipe it up quickly. Just as I finish wiping down the counter top, my roommate barges in the door.

“I really have to pee, can you step out for a minute?” She looks at me, a pleading look in her eyes.

“Yeah, sure.” I reply, furtively tossing the bloodied tissue paper into the trash can. I turn off the water and palm my knife, hoping she doesn’t notice.

She doesn’t. I get pushed out of the bathroom, and the door slams shut in my face.