Thursday, November 13, 2014


"I have a good idea." she said.
"What?" she replied.
"Go to the bathroom. But first, bring that pair of scissors."
"Why? How is this going to help me?"
"Just trust me. It'll work. You'll get through this. But first, you have to do this."
She walked to the bathroom, scissors in hand.
"Okay, now what?" she said.
"This is going to be so awesome. Pull up your sleeve." she replied.
"Why? I don't understand."
"Just do it."
She pulled up her sleeve.
"You know what to do next..."
She did.
"I don't want to do this. Please, I don't want to do this to myself."
"You said you wanted to feel better. You said you wanted to wake from this hellish sleep. Baby, this is better than a pinch. It will work wonders on you. Just do it."
She closed her eyes. She opened the scissors. She squeezed so hard, her hand bled before she put the sharp edge to her arm.
Three cuts, close together. Thin and red.
She sat on the floor, crying silent tears.
"I told you it would feel better." she said.
"You were right, it does." she replied.

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