Author's Note, read or die: Seriously, the Grudge will eat your face if you don't. This is so personal, it's taking major balls to post it. I would love your honest but intelligent opinions on this. I do not, in any way shape or form, condone or support cutting. I do not own Hannah Montana, Lilly, or Miley.
Enjoy? (:
-x-
She knew it was sick. The way that her eyes closed like she was day dreaming, her head lulled back and a blissful moan escaped her lips. Delightful tingles raced through her body and closed up the hole in her chest that was threatening to swallow her. She smiled as the blade danced slowly across her skin. She wasn't pressing it. She was letting it roam across her skin as it pleased. The blade missed her almost as much as she missed it. It wasn't the same pair of red scissors she had used over a year ago, but all blades that gave her that warm, fuzzy feeling must have shared the same soul. She didn't smile when she looked at the knives in the kitchen or the long, blue pair of scissors that she saw sitting in the silverware drawer every day. It was the smaller pairs that made her fingers itch and her eyes light up. She now remembers smiling a small, delicate smile whenever she saw this particular pair. They weren't the same blades that had given her the scars adorning her left arm, but they could give her the same happiness. She could give them happiness too.
She hummed to herself and made the single blade she was letting touch her turn and go back the way it came. Her skin, the same skin she thought was so ugly and disgusting in the day time, sang to her, thanked her for finally letting it feel the cold metal once again. It had been so long. She knew her skin missed the other pair too. These felt different. Their delicious metal made her grin, but it felt so alien to her. She guessed a big part of it was because these weren't made for cutting much of anything. Considering the odd shape at the end of the twin blades, she guessed they were part of the manicure set her mother had gotten her for Christmas three years ago. These weren't very sharp. But they had a soul, one that wanted to put it's blades to good use. It wanted to sink into another soul's weak exterior, create a long, thin hole so that the other soul's pent up feelings could seep through and escape. Then that soul could be itself again, rediscover itself. She wasn't used to these blades, but she was so thankful that they were there for her. They wanted to help her.
She brought the loops in the handle closer together and pressed both of the blades against herself and released a content sigh. She pressed a little harder, needing to really feel her new friend, and the blades started the dance towards the back of her hand all over again. The third time, if she'd counted right. So many beautiful emotions and thoughts coursed through her mind within such a short time span, all thanks to the loving blades. Her fingers twitched and they sunk again, the left one nearly breaking her. But not quite. Not yet. She needed to completely free herself from horribly familiar feelings raging through her. She hated herself so much. So, so much. It was her fault Miley left her. It was all her fault. The regret and pity spiked and she rammed the dull point into her skin. She hissed and her left hand balled into a fist. It didn't hurt. It never hurt, but the surprise was there. She was too lost in the feelings she was ridding herself of. She smiled and silently thanked the blades for bringing her out of the stupor she'd momentarily slipped into. She loved these scissors. They passionately danced around the tiny mark on her skin, apologizing for the scare they gave her. They didn't need to apologize. They were doing their job.
Her fingers gripped the handles tighter and she brought the new lovers up to her jaw. They traced a faint line from her ear to her chin, the tingles and heat felt better than any other kisses she'd received before. These were special kisses. These were the lips she'd have forever. They pivoted, turned and glided down her throat and across her chest. A thin white line was left in their wake but it wouldn't scar. Not there anyways. She pulled the blades away from her torso and back to her arm. The dance was over. They'd courted for tonight, it was time for them to give her what she needed.
She moaned when they sunk into arm and left their delicious red mark. The blood was coming slowly, but she couldn't deny it was there. For a fleeting second, she wondered what she'd tell her mom. Then they moved further still, a little rougher and she grinned. She liked it rough. She opened her eyes to see that she had connected two previous lines with a new, gorgeous bridge. She pulled the scissors away, closed them and slid them back into her drawer with a quiet "Thank you." She could sleep now.