The Cutter

By: kArLaLa

A short drabble that suddenly crossed my mind inspired by The Trevor Project. I am a straight woman but an avid supporter of the LGBT community, that's why I wrote this… I hope this inspires a lot of people out there.

I look up at the newcomer of my room and froze dead on my spot when I saw you standing on the doorway. How the hell could I have forgotten to close the door? I looked down and took it away... embarrassed… exposed.

I couldn't look at you in the face, there was no use hiding on what I was doing. Guilt? Regret? Self-pity? All of these emotions coursing through my veins as I avoided your gaze.

I was caught… I didn't want to make excuses… there was no use hiding it… what good excuse could I come up with anyway? It was so painfully obvious with the mess I created all over the floor.

You strode over towards me and knelt in front of me, grabbing my wrist and pressed on to it. You took the blade away from my hand and threw it across the other side of the room. Your hand was still pressed on my wrist, the crimson color starting to cover your fingers.

I finally look up to your eyes.

The look of disappointment… fear… betrayal?

You look back down and shake your head. You probably can't believe this is happening. Least of all me.

I try to take my hand away but you were firm on your grip. You were stopping it from getting any worse. You pull me up to my feet… I obliged. You dragged me towards my desk and you take out my markers.

You made me sit on the edge of my bed and you knelt in front of me, taking my wrist into your eye-level. Red fingers peeled slowly away and I feel the cool texture of my marker against my skin, the tickling sensation making me forget about the sting.

You smile a few times when you look up at me. I didn't have the courage to smile back.

Finally, you pop the cap back on the marker and admire the piece of art you've made. You take my wrist into your hands and show them to me as if I've not seen what you have done.

But I do.

The only reason why I couldn't see it clearly was because of the tears obscuring my vision.

But still… I do see it.

And from deep inside me... I see something else...

Hope.

I see the words… the words you've written right across the gash that is still there…

It gets better…

End.

A/N: So... who do you think is the cutter and who is the savior? ;) Reviews are appreciated!