A/N I had the strangest idea for a fanfic after watching a Yoplait commercial on TV. It's an Ellie fanfic about coming of age. The song is by BOMBALURINA.

Go on girl, go on, go on, go on girl
I like it
Go on girl, go on, go on, go on girl
Uno, Dos, Tres, Quatro
Itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
Oh yeah

She stared at her forearms.

The scars on her pale arms had faded. Almost gone. Soon to be completely invisible for that matter.

The scars weren't just red marks (well, by now pink marks) on different places of her body. They were stories that were filled with woe and isolation, that were painful just to look at. Like the first cut she ever made on herself, the one closest to her elbow. She was hurting that night, and no one was there to cure that pain. Or, for that matter, there at all. And maybe she was being a bit dramatic; lot's of people have people in their families that are alcoholics, people in their families that are enlisted and are currently serving, almost every student skips doing homework, has a pop quiz, boyfriends who turn gay. And Ellie Nash got used to it, the pain; her mother being an alcoholic, her father being overseas and the possibility that he could be shot at any moment, and her new, gay boyfriend. So, why was it so different that night? It's an unanswerable question for sure. Cutting had become the new illegal substance that Ellie had gotten her hands on, and she loved getting high off the pain.

And like some people say, some songwriters sing, some "Grey's Anatomy" titles read, the first cut is the deepest.

Unlike the other agony in her life, she could control this. Control when she needed a little extra hurt. The color crimson was a security blanket; the smell of claret lingering in the air was comforting. She didn't need anyone or anything else, just her smooth blade and human blood.

Ellie was good at hiding it as well. Between long-sleeved tee shirts and arm, sleeves to telling lies about how much things had improved between her and her mother during group.

Another time was because a sharp blade had become the best companion in the world; like a "BFF" a person spends every Saturday night with, like a friend she hadn't seen in awhile, like a drinking buddy, like another synonym for a good ol' pal. Every companion she once had left, she ran into the blade in the bathroom, the two conversed through tears, and the blade seemed to say, "I'm always here to cure the pain." So, she grabbed the blade dug the cool metal into her bare thigh and pulled. The air stung the fresh new cut. It was more added pain, but it was another added pain that she could control. The only pain that was welcomed in her life.

Maybe it was some coming of age situation, and she learned from a curly haired boy called Craig that pain was a part of life that she couldn't control, but she didn't have to feel it. And she was tired of hurting.

So she tossed out the blades that screamed out her name when she was upset, returned the rubber bands to Office Depot, donated her long-sleeved tee shirts and arm socks and added tank tops and her new, favorite yellow polka dot bikini to her wardrobe.

She was afraid to come out of the locker
She was as nervous as she could be
She was afraid to come out of the locker
She was afraid that somebody would see
Two, three, four, tell the people what she wore

On a sweltering summer day, she phoned her dear friend Marco and invited him to go swimming with her at the community pool. Their plans were set for one-thirty. She opened her closet and pulled out her yellow bikini.

When Marco saw her standing on her front porch in a cute, little bikini he smiled. "Hey there, little Miss Sunshine," he shouted out cheerfully. "Ready to go?"

It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini
That she wore for the first time today
Oh yeah
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini
So in the locker she wanted to stay
Two, three, four, stick around we'll tell you more

The pain from her latest heartbreak and disappointment was still there, but with the water against her bare skin and the sun in her face, made it all disappear momentarily. And she knew it would all eventually go away.

Because the scars fade and the pain evades, and blood isn't so comforting anymore.

An itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini

Six months later, there's no sign of any scars.

That she wore for the first time today