She stared at her leg; the crimson liquid was running down the sides, veining out like a spiders web.

Drip.

She could see the marks, but she couldn't feel them. She brought razor back to her thigh, placing it above the rest of the striations. No one would see them there.

Drip.

She paused to look at her hand. It was trembling, though if she hadn't seen it she wouldn't have known. She sat there, watching it, waiting for it to make its next move. As she looked, she noticed the red scar running length wise up her arm. She looked away, not wanting the memories to come back.

Drip.

But it was inevitable. They always came back.

"Get out of my way you dolt!" the white haired girl exclaimed, pushing her out of the way. She fell, turning so her arm would take most of the impact. But she hadn't expected the table to be there. She collided with it, her arm busting through the glass top. As it punched its way through, the sharp edge of the glass dug into her arm, splitting her arm open, causing her dark red blood to pour out. She gasped from the pain that shot up her arm, a whimper escaping from her as tears started running down her face. "Now look what you did!" the heiress shouted at the fallen girl, completely disregarding that the she was was hurt and profusely bleeding. "Clean this up when you're done whining!" And with that the icy girl stormed off, leaving the injured girl to fend for herself. She wrapped her injured arm in her cloak, hoping the blood wouldn't show through the red material. She stood up and started cleaning up the broken table.

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

Drip.

That day was the first. The first day she met the icy girl. The first day she started hating herself. The first day she thought of herself as worthless. The first day she started cutting. That was five months ago.

Drip.

She pulled the razor across her leg, a new cut appearing, leaking blood all over.

Drip. Drip.

The blood flowed much faster now, the new cut being very deep. She watched the red liquid fall from her cut up leg, make the puddle on the ground grow larger and larger.

Drip. Drip.

She watched it seep into her skirt, turning the once plaid material a solid blood red.

Drip. Drip.

Her view traced the blood back to its source, the large gash that just made. She welcomed the pain it emitted. It made her feel less dead inside, and told her she was still human. The blood running over her skin let her feel warmth, something she didn't feel normally.

Drip. Drip.

She ran the blade over her leg again, faster than the previous time. The blood flowed out even faster now, the multitude of cuts being covered up by the blood they were releasing.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

She welcomed the pain, never wanting it to go away. She knew it would though. It left just as quick as it came.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

She didn't want to stop feeling. She didn't want the pain to go away. She pulled the metal across her leg again, a new wave of pain coursing through her. The blood was flowing steadily now, almost a stream running off of her.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

She leaned back in her chair, getting light headed from the lack of blood. She looked at her leg, her vision starting to blur. I should stop, or I might not recover from this… She pulled the razor across her leg a final time, letting her arm hang limply at her side. A small chuckle escaped from her lips as the blade fell, her hand no longer having the strength to hold on. Who am I kidding? No one would miss me...