As blood seeped to the surface of the wound, I felt an inner-calm. A tear dripped from my cheek, and the salty water mixed with the blood. All my life, I have been surrounded by men with authority – first my dad, now Matt. They each exerted control over me in their own, individual way; but not now. Now I have control of myself. A small smile appeared at the corners of my mouth as I sank the key in again. Matt doesn't like me going into his kitchen and spoiling the cleanliness except for when I have to cook dinner. I don't want to burst his little precious bubble of 'success', so I use a key. After two months of hell with Matt, the tops of my legs are riddled with scars.
After a second, my thoughts turned to Will, and our night together. Dear Will, what would you think of me now?
I frowned. I was being submissive. Again. Too submissive. Even now I'm asking someone else's opinion. I cut again, deeper and slower, and a wave of relief washed over me. I am in control, and I need no one.
Just on a quick point – this is not written from any of my own experience, it's just a random idea that popped into my head while doing Chemistry homework…