Once Ashley got up to her room, she pulled out her math book. She did all her homework in class, but she figured if anyone came up, she could at least look like she was doing something. Once she had gotten her fake homework set up, she pulled off the band-aid. A thin line went part way across her palm. No more blood though, she had cleaned it up well, and it hadn't bleed since.
She ran her finger carefully over it, not wanting to cause it to start bleeding again. On an otherwise perfect hand, it was the only imperfection. It reminded her of school. She had always had a pretty good life, no real problems, until now. Now was her life's only blemish, only imperfection.
Ashley knew she should be thinking of the perverse pleasure in bleeding as another problem, but she couldn't. If it felt so good, how could it be wrong, how could it be a problem?
Ok, so even Ashley could see the fault in logic in that statement. Druggies said drugs made them feel good, but that was different. They were killing off brain cells; she was just losing a little blood.
"Maybe it was just a one time thing," she thought to herself. "Maybe it'll never feel good again. But how can I be sure?"
That question had an obvious answer. The one way she could prove to herself that cutting felt good was only a one-time thing was to do it again.
"It has to be a one-time thing. I'll never like it again. But just to reassure myself..."
Ashley pulled out a one of those crazy key chains, the one that had a million gadgets on it. She kept it in her desk, because she couldn't take it to school; it would be considered a weapon. She pulled out the knife attachment of it.
The knife's blade was smooth, she noticed right away, just like the knife she had cut herself with. That was good, because she didn't want it to have a serrated edge; she knew she wouldn't like it again, so she might as well make it as easy as possible.
"Ashley?" a voice called, for her. It was her mom. "Can I come in?"
"Shit," Ashley thought to herself. "This will have to wait until later. She shoved the knife back in the drawer and said, "Sure, come on in. I'm nearly finished with my homework."
She ran her finger carefully over it, not wanting to cause it to start bleeding again. On an otherwise perfect hand, it was the only imperfection. It reminded her of school. She had always had a pretty good life, no real problems, until now. Now was her life's only blemish, only imperfection.
Ashley knew she should be thinking of the perverse pleasure in bleeding as another problem, but she couldn't. If it felt so good, how could it be wrong, how could it be a problem?
Ok, so even Ashley could see the fault in logic in that statement. Druggies said drugs made them feel good, but that was different. They were killing off brain cells; she was just losing a little blood.
"Maybe it was just a one time thing," she thought to herself. "Maybe it'll never feel good again. But how can I be sure?"
That question had an obvious answer. The one way she could prove to herself that cutting felt good was only a one-time thing was to do it again.
"It has to be a one-time thing. I'll never like it again. But just to reassure myself..."
Ashley pulled out a one of those crazy key chains, the one that had a million gadgets on it. She kept it in her desk, because she couldn't take it to school; it would be considered a weapon. She pulled out the knife attachment of it.
The knife's blade was smooth, she noticed right away, just like the knife she had cut herself with. That was good, because she didn't want it to have a serrated edge; she knew she wouldn't like it again, so she might as well make it as easy as possible.
"Ashley?" a voice called, for her. It was her mom. "Can I come in?"
"Shit," Ashley thought to herself. "This will have to wait until later. She shoved the knife back in the drawer and said, "Sure, come on in. I'm nearly finished with my homework."
