Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the HSM franchise in any way, shape or form. Nor do I own any rights to the non-profit organization To Write Love On Her Arm. They are merely an inspiration.

A/N: My, oh my, it's been a mighty long time. But today is something special and I've been feeling kind of blah lately so I was hoping that writing would lift my spirits a bit. Today (March 1st) is Self-Injury Awareness Day so I'm just doing my part of reaching out and talking about it. The title of this is a reference to TWLOA, a non-profit organization dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide. www(DOT)twloha(DOT)com

Your alarm rings and your body cries for you to fall back asleep. But you can't. If you want to be made up in time for school, this is the price you must pay. The bed creaks as you roll off of it and onto your feet with your hair sticking out in every direction. You come to stand in front of the mirror and examine your bare face.

It's another day of playing pretend.

Of hiding your true self from the world.

Of waiting till you break.

You run your hands through your locks as you drag yourself over to your adjourning bathroom. You wince as the bright lights momentarily blinds you. Maneuvering your hair out of the way, you bend over the porcelain sink and splash the icy water over your face.

Now your day has truly begun.

Finally, you reach for the nearest towel and pat your face dry. You finally look at yourself. It's another day and you still don't like what you see in the mirror. You slowly set down the towel and work at taming your hair. The task is nearly impossible but it's a necessary step to your day.

Once again, you catch glimpses of your reflection in the mirror.

You're getting there.

You almost look normal.

You take a moment to study your handiwork. You flash a fake smile, a test run for the rest of your day. It doesn't quite reach your eyes. Then again, it never really does.

You think that nobody sees through this masquerade. That everybody is oblivions to the pain you feel inside. And for the most part, they are because you are so trained in parading around with a mask. But there are those few that see the emptiness in your eyes and kept hushed. They believe that you are strong enough to take it.

Little do they know that the pressure to be perfect is eating you up inside. There is only so much you can take before you just give up.

It's just a matter of time.

A/N: This is just an into. The rest of the chapters will be written in third person. I was going to post the story when I was done as a oneshot but I really wanted to publish it today for Self-Injury Awareness Day. I already had this part written up from one of my unfinished stories so I figured what the hell. More to come soon.

Thank you for reading and please review!

Much Love,
Kae