My feet find their way down the stairs leading from the train to the floor. Right as I’m about to take the last step and put my feet on the floor when I come face to face with a hard, flat warmth. My hands instantly fly up in front of me, pushing myself away from whatever I hit. I swing my head to the side slightly to move my long bangs away from my eyes and look up to meet the gaze of cold gray eyes.

I follow the crowd to the common room and quickly head for the bathroom in the girl’s dormitories. I go into a stall and kneel beside the porcelain bowl. I heave a bit until I can feel the warm liquid rise in my throat. I force the bile out and puke the food and fat into the toilet. Then I hear a soft knock on the stall door.

My wrist itches, but I can’t scratch it without pulling up my sleeve. So I try to ignore it. But the stupid itch won’t go away. So I scratch over the sleeves.
“Shit.” I mutter as I see fresh blood start to ooze through and stain the shirt…
…He leans to my ear and whispers, “Um, Kelsey, Ginny’s really worried about you.”

…I search around my trunk until I find it: my best friend and my worst enemy. I pick it up and run to the bathroom. I pull up my sleeve and run the blade across my wrist. Too many times to count...