Author's Note: Alright! -pumps fist in the air- Another chapter! However, I must apologize for the long awaited update! I've been busy with school and softball that I simply haven't had time or much inspiration to write this. But now, it's here, so have fun with it. Also, if anyone actually reads these things, if you have an idea, please suggest it! I need some good ideas for this story, as I do not certainly know where everything is going to go. Thanks if you do!

Disclaimer: I do not own the BSC, p y s k e . o g (spaced to keep it in here, put an R between O and G.

Anyway, enough of me, happy reading!


Stacey and I had just finished our homework when I heard two cars pull up in the driveway. My parents were home, as well as Janine, who my mother had driven home from school.

Stacey was standing up and heading towards the door after she'd packed up all her stuff, and I was walking her to the door as well. Janine, my mom, and my dad walked in when we reached the door. They were all excited and all three of them had grins on their faces.

I saw my mom open her mouth to speak, but something inside myself made me interrupt her. "Mom, what's all the excitement about?" I asked with a bit of annoyance in my voice. Where in the WORLD was this attitude coming from? I'd never had an attitude this bad. I mean, I had some bad days, but never this bad...

My mother glared at me and dusted off non-existant dust on her beige jacket. She cleared her throat and looked me straight in the eye, "Your sister has won yet another award, so we were going to go out to eat to celebrate." She glanced at Stacey, who was standing beside me. "Would you like to join us, Stacey?"

Stacey quickly shook her head but smiled. "No, thank you. My mother wanted me home by 7, anyway, so I'm gonna go. 'Bye, Janine, Mrs. Kishi, Mr. Kishi, Claudia!" Stacey said as she walked out the door and down the drive, out of sight.

I heard my dad clear his throat in his most manly manner. "Ahem...Claudia, where did that attitude of yours come from?"

I tried to act as innocent as I could, by lying. "What attitude?" I asked in a somewhat playful manner.

He looked down on me as I was a little field rat and he was a huge stalk of corn. "The way you rudely interrupted your mother." He said as he motioned with his head over to my mom.

I laughed nervously and clasped my hands together behind my back. "Oh, that. I'm sorry. I was just so eager to hear what everyone was so excited about, I just couldn't hold back." That was a lie and my conscience knew it.

"You are THE worst liar on the face of this whole freaking planet!"

Not quite registering the fact that this was me talking to myself in my head, a confused expression etched its way onto my face. "What?" I asked aloud, and as soon I said it all eyes were on my.

"What was that?" My mother asked, looking t me suspiciously.

"Nothing!" I said quickly, trying to change the subject. "What about the restaurant?"

My mom still looked suspicious, but she let it go. "We were thinking of going to that new Chinese restaurant downtown in about ten minutes."

I forced a plastic smile onto my face, pretending to be happy about going out to eat when I was just about to go dump out what I had in my stomach into the toilet. "That sounds fantastic, mom! I'll go get ready!" With that I ran up the stairs and into my room.

Ten minutes later, I came down in a totally cute outfit: Hot pink lace Capri leggings, a black short nylon skirt, a stretchy white and black striped top, pink dangly feather earrings, a black and white set of bangles, and black sandals. My mom looked at me disapprovingly when she saw me, but let it go. After that, we all went outside, got into the car, and drove off into the currently setting sun.

An hour-in-a-half later, we were finally come, stomachs full and all. Of course, I'd eaten WAY too much at the restaurant. I mean, a bowl of ice cream, two egg rolls, some crab-legs and a bit of jello, and I felt like a whale. A huge beach whale.

As you might have assumed, I ran straight up to my bathroom, but not after kissing my parents goodnight. I turned on the shower, as to conceal the sound of barfing, leaned over the toilet, put my finger down my throat, and let everything I just ate come up in a green-brown-orangeish mix of lumps.

I flushed the toilet and stood up, looking at myself in the mirror. I still felt fat; I wasn't satisfied. And looking in the mirror at my disgusting face made me want to die. Suddenly, when I moved my hand, I felt a sharp sting on my finger. I instantly felt blood roll down my index finger in which was cut, and looked down, only to see a purple razor sitting as innocently as possible with a small blood puddle next to it.

I brought my finger up to my face and watched intently as blood poured from the small, accidental wound. It was almost enchanting, the red blood leaking out through pink, torn flesh. It didn't hurt, actually, and it sort of felt…good. I don't really know how to explain it to you, but the sensation made my blood run cold but made me feel so warm and fuzzy inside at the same time.

Slowly being drawn to the feeling, I picked up the razor and pressed my finger against the sharp, steel blade and slid it across, letting the metallic metal slice through the tanned skin of my finger. Before I could stop myself, I threw my head back and let out a small moan at the new feeling. After this, I stopped and looked at myself. I was moaning from pain. This was totally wrong, and yet it felt so right.

Sighing, I un-dressed, picked up the razor and stepped into the steaming hot shower. The hot water beating down on my shoulders made me shudder at the sudden contact, but was pleasurable nonetheless. I looked down at the razor in my hands and the cuts on my fingers, and an idea popped into my head: If it felt this good for my fingers, couldn't it work if I were to cut somewhere else?

Nodding to myself, I pressed it to the bronze side of my left forearm and moved the blade slowly across my arm, leaving a trail of rich, dark red blood in its path. I repeated this three more times, loving every moment of it, but I was forced to stop as the bleeding was being so persistent. Although this gave me a good scare, I was able to stop the bleeding after a while, and began to wash my body and my hair.

After I got out, I dried myself with a towel, wrapped it around me and walked to my room, concealing the cuts as I went. I quickly dressed in baggy neon-pink sleeping shorts and a long sleeved purple sweatshirt. I brushed my long, thick, silky black hair, dried it, and tied it with a hair elastic and plopped down on my bed. I sighed and pulled the blanket over me, wondering if anyone would care about what I was doing to myself. After a while of thinking, I suppose my mind just shut down, because all I could remember was blackness.


Concluding Notes: Well, what do you think? I have to apologize if it's a bit too detailed in the gory scenes, but it's so much fun to write them.

R&R People!