Amanda

I groggily opened my eyes and blinked a few times, struggling to adjust to the light. I looked at the clock on my bedside table that read 5:00. I mentally cursed my mother for barging in and turning on the lights at such an early hour. A few seconds later, my brain processed what day it was. Today was the day I could finally leave this hellhole.

Six months ago, my grandmother had moved herself out to Mullingar, a small town in Ireland. She had always been interested in Irish culture and had tracked our family tree through several generations to find out that her side of the family was mostly Irish. It wasn't much of a surprise when she had given us the news of her move across the Atlantic.

My grandmother and I had always been close. I loved when she visited because she never treated me like a child. She talked to me like I was an adult and I loved that. We usually stayed on the subject of books, which was easily the most comfortable topic of conversation for me. We would talk about which books we were reading and make recommendations. I loved talking to her because she was the only person in my family who read as much as I did. My parents stuck to television and all of my cousins were far more interested in sports than books. I was always eager for my grandmother's visits so that I could finally talk about what I was actually interested in.

I knew that her move would make visits even scarcer, so I wasn't too thrilled about it. So when she offered to let me stay with her for the summer, I was ecstatic. I had always wanted to visit "The Emerald Isle" and I knew that two months with my grandmother would be just what I needed.

I clumsily got out of bed and walked, half-asleep, to my open suitcase. I had packed, unpacked, and repacked several times over to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. I went through everything one last time and walked to my dresser.

I had barely any clothes left; most of my small wardrobe was packed for the trip. I threw on my only remaining pair of jeans, which I had saved for today. They were my favorite red skinny jeans. I opened another drawer and rummaged through it, desperately trying to find a shirt that I liked that hadn't been packed. I finally found my favorite 'Florence + the Machine' t-shirt and put that on too. I ran my brush through my obnoxiously wavy hair and threw it into my suitcase.

I went into the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth and took my makeup bag from the bathroom cabinet. I applied a quick coat of mascara and looked in the mirror. I wasn't looking my best, that's for sure, but I was only going on a plane. My grandmother wouldn't care how I looked, so I really had no one to impress. I walked out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, placing my makeup bag and my toothbrush into my suitcase.

I glanced at my clock again, which now read 5:25. My flight was at seven and the airport was about fifteen minutes away, so I knew we'd have to leave in a few minutes.

I walked back to my room and zipped up my suitcase. I glanced around to make sure I wasn't forgetting anything and my eyes locked on my jewelry box. I slowly walked over to it and opened the top. I peered in and saw the familiar rectangular box that had been taken out too many times. I took it and slid it into my pocket, knowing that I could barely go two weeks, let alone two months without what was inside it. My thoughts wandered to last week, six days ago to be exact, and the last time I had taken out the tiny box.

I removed the all-too-familiar blade from the box in which I kept it. It felt oddly reassuring to have it in my hands again. I expertly positioned the blade between my fingers and dragged the sharp edge across the skin covering my wrist. I applied more and more pressure as I dragged it along, gasping when I had gone a bit too deep. I stopped the pressure and drew my hand away, looking down, pleased, at my work.

Blood was rising to the surface and I sighed. A mixture of pain and pleasure coursed throughout my whole arm as the blood slowly trickled down. I placed the blade back in its case and the case back into my jewelry box. I quietly took a tissue to my wrist and allowed the blood to be absorbed. I put a couple of bracelets on once the bleeding had stopped and went out to the dining room for dinner. I smiled to myself as I sat down to eat, my parents completely oblivious to what I had just done. If only they knew.

I smiled faintly at the memory.

"Amanda! Hurry up; we have a flight to catch!", my mother yelled from somewhere in the house.

"I'm coming!" I yelled back.

I quickly slipped on my Converse and grabbed my suitcase and carryon bag and left my room. My mom was already leaving the house and heading for the car, so I quickly rushed outside and threw everything into the trunk.

I slipped my iPod out from my pocket and put my ear-buds in as I sat down in the passenger seat. I wasn't in the mood to listen to my mother give me a lecture on safety and get emotional about not seeing me for the summer. I skimmed through all the songs I had and finally settled on "Flume" by Bon Iver. I stared out of the window, excitement finally settling in for the adventure ahead of me.