Lizzie
I was in the downstairs bathroom, bleeding from my recent cutting session, holding a tissue over my wrist. It was 2 in the morning. I was using the downstairs bathroom because I didn't want any of my friends to know what I had just done. We - my friends, kate, karen, Keisha, reba and Vanessa - were all at a sleepover's at Karen's. The door to the bathroom was unlocked but closed. I heard a knock. I was afraid but curious. I was afraid bc I didn't want anyone to see what I was doing. The knob turned and Jessi, my friend Reba's older sister stepped in. She was aware that someone was in the bathroom but she hadn't seen who it was yet.
"Hi just came in to get some-" she started rifling through the drawers, the medicine cabinet and the closet. then saw me.
I looked like one of those artworks you'd find on deviantart: Legs splayed out in front of me, long cream coloured short sleeve nightgown, a pattern of scars and cuts up and down my arms. Sitting against the tub. When she saw me, her face fell.
"Oh Lizzie," she said in a sympathetic sad voice.
My eyes were brimming with tears. I was embarrassed.
"I'm sorry."
Jessi came further into the bathroom and closed the door. She got the pads and then came over to me, sat down, the pads on the floor next to her, on the other side.
I was apologising for cutting, for not dealing w/ my emotions in healthy ways.
"Lizzie," she told me shifting. "it's not your fault."
I hadn't learned to accept this even if my friends had.
"I know but…"
"How bad is it?" she asked.
I showed her my arm it was still bleeding.
"Oh," was Jessi's surprised reaction.
She crossed her legs. And took my arm and put it in her lap, pressing the tissue to the still bleeding cut. We sat there in silence for a few minutes. Everything in the bathroom was white. The rug was dark green. The shower curtain was clear. It was a silent white island, oasis in the middle of the dark. In the dead of the morning.
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