Here's a new chapter, I hope. I've been out of my depression funk, so this might end up being kind of difficult. If you guys have any ideas about what you want to see, they would be greatly appreciated:) On with the show!

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Four: Artemis

In the end, Wally took me to the hospital to get stitches. They didn't ask me any questions, and for that I was glad. They just patched me up. The stitches hurt, but I refused to get pain medication. I didn't want to get addicted to drugs next.

When they first started the stitches, I grabbed Wally's hand. He didn't say anything. He just let me squeeze his hand when it hurt too much.

When we left, he was still holding my hand. Or, I guess I was still holding his hand. He still didn't say anything, and I felt strangely comfortable holding onto him. He felt like a life line in this crazy life of mine. And when the hell did I start thinking that?

How did I even start this in the first place? What had happened to me? And what was going to happen to me now?

I felt horrible. How could I stoop so low? I felt embarrassed. How was I going to face my friends again after all this happened? After what they had found out. And what was I going to do about my mom? I hoped to God that she wouldn't find out. I just wouldn't be able to stand it if she did.

I felt myself start to tense up all over again. I needed to calm down. But how? Wally seemed to notice that I was struggling, and he squeezed my hand tightly.

"Hey, you need to relax," he told me. He voice was so comforting, I could picture myself getting lost in it.

"God, I just can't get my emotions together," I told him.

"Everything will be alright," he said, placing his hand on my cheek.

I wasn't sure what was happening, but I leaned forward and kissed him. It felt so good, so right. But he pulled away.

"What?" I started.

"Look, I don't want to take advantage of you Artemis," he said. His eyes looked different, I couldn't quiet place it.

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"You're at a very emotional state right now. I don't want to do anything with you that you might regret later when you're not so, uh, emotional."

"Ugh! Whatever!" I turned and stomped away.

I didn't really know where I was going, but I didn't care. What was up with me? Did Wally just not like me like that? I kinda thought he had, with the way he was being so nice to me. Maybe I was just seeing things.

I could feel my blood start to roll again. I always felt this way before I would cut. I shouldn't be feeling this again! I stopped and put my arms around myself. I bent over, trying to keep myself together. I heard footsteps behind me.

"Artemis!" I heard Wally say.

"Look, it's not like I don't like you like that, but you may not like me like that," he started to say.

"Just, take me home," I could feel tears start to form behind my eyes.

...

I was at school when I felt it come over me again. That feeling. The feeling to cut. The feeling to relieve my stress and sadness. It came after a text message from one of my old friends from my old high school. We had been having a stupid fight.

Dnt tlk 2 me lke were kewl, she texted me.

What can I do 2 fix this? I pleaded with her.

Idk. Bye. She replied.

She was being ridiculous! I knew that, but I could feel that stressful feeling again. That boiling feeling beneath my skin.

I looked around the classroom, home ec, praying that I could find something, anything to help me. I looked at my phone. Wally told me to text him whenever I felt like this again, but I didn't want to admit to him that I was a failure. Again.

I got up and walked over to teacher's desk. She was helping a few students, so she wasn't anywhere near. I looked at her desk. I saw a couple scissors.

I shouldn't be doing this! I had gone a week without any incident, how could this throw me off so much? I snatched up a pair of scissors and tested the edge. A small line of blood appeared. I hadn't even expected it to work.

I brought it to the back of my hand, the closest piece of skin I could reach without having to move my jacket aside. I placed it on my skin, and pressed. I dragged it along my skin not even an inch when I felt the familiar tickle.

I stared at the blood in horror. What had I done?