"Is Ellie home?"

"Yeah, this is Ellie."

"Ellie, this is Toby, Ash's brother."

"Yeah, I know who you are. Why are you calling me?"

"I…I have to tell you…"

"Tell me what? Just spit it out."

"Yesterday, Ash got a ride home from that party last night, you know, the one at Marco's house. Both she and the driver were drunk…and….and…"

And then came the words that sent me into a spiral.

"They never came home."

The next day at school, they brought in grief counselors. All of us who knew Ash really well were called down to the Principle's office: Me, Paige, Craig, Marco, Spinner, Terri, Hazel. The counselor, she told us to call her Marie, led us to a conference room where we could talk.

Immediately, everyone started crying; well, everyone started crying except me. Instead, I asked Marie a question. A really stupid question.

I asked, "How did you get into grief counseling? Do you like to watch people sob?" I wasn't being sarcastic, I really wanted to know. Everyone gave me weird looks, and Marie steered the conversation in a different direction. Pretty soon, everyone was crying, and talking about how much they'd miss Ash, and how they wish they hadn't been drinking at the party so they could have been sober enough to think to call her a cab or something.

Halfway through this, I asked to be excused. Marie responded, "You know, I really think that talking would benefit you." I figured that meant I couldn't go. So I asked if I could leave the room for a minute, go to the bathroom, and collect my thoughts. She said yes, because she was stupid. I had no thoughts to collect. But if I had to spend another moment in that room, I'd probably drown in all the tears.

I practically ran down to the bathroom. I pulled out my compass, and just like I had done so many times, I started cutting again. Minutes later, just like I knew she would, Paige burst into the bathroom.

"Ellie, stop it!" she demanded, urgently, her face horrified by how my arm looked. If she thought it was bad before, it had only gotten worse. Talking to Ms Sovet didn't help, believe me. "Stop it!" she demanded again.

I ignored her. I went deeper. Paige pulled the compass out of my hands, and threw it away.

"You know, another one will only cost me a dollar," I told her, laughing. I wiped my arm off with a paper towel, put some gauze on my arm, taped it on (I had gotten used to doing this. My cuts had gotten deeper, and so they took longer to stop bleeding), and walked out of the bathroom.



The funeral held the next day was terrible. Well, it was beautiful, but it was terrible. I almost didn't go, but Marco dragged me anyways. I made all sorts of excuses, lame ones, but none of them were true. I didn't know why I didn't want to go. You would think, as close as Ash and I were that I'd want to go to her funeral, to say goodbye or something. But I didn't.

Marco just thought I was uncomfortable with funerals. He's wrong though, I'm about as comfortable with funerals as one could really be. I've been to a lot in my lifetime, and while they aren't fun, they don't make me uncomfortable anymore. But I didn't tell Marco that, I just let him think what he wanted to think.

I sat in the back, as far away from everyone else as I could possibly be. I knew Marco wanted to sit closer, to be with his other friends, but he didn't want to leave me alone either. I told him to go, that I'd be fine. I must be a good liar, because he believed me. Or maybe he wanted to believe me. I don't know. So I sat alone.

Anyone who wanted to say something about "the deceased" (which by the way is a really cold term for someone who you knew so well) was invited to come up and do it. I stayed seated. I knew if I got up there, I'd cry. I hadn't cried yet, and I could lose control of myself. I didn't like to lose control.

Paige, however, had no problem with crying publicly. She got up, and started to talk.

"Ash was my best friend. Even after everything we went through together, we managed to find our way back to each other. We needed each other. I don't know what I'll do without her; without my best friend." After this sentence, of course, she started crying. So did a lot of people who were sitting.

She couldn't stop, and so Spinner came up, and led her back to her seat. She glanced at me, I don't know why. But she glanced at me, with her eyes full of tears, and mine completely dry, and she gave me an odd look through her tears. She hadn't spoken to me much since she saw my arm; I know I wouldn't want to speak to me either. I probably looked and sounded like a maniac. So I couldn't imagine why she'd think to look at me now, to see how I was doing.

After the funeral, I made my escape as quickly as possible. I wanted to get home. I had a brand new razor. Paige didn't know it, but she did me a service. Not the one she wanted though. When I walked into the store, heading to the school supplies, I passed a few razor blades. They were cheep too.

Upstairs, I began making deep slashes in my arm. I didn't even worry about being caught anymore, my mother was too drunk to notice. A half hour later, the doorbell rang. I peered out the front window, saw it was Paige, and headed downstairs. I didn't even bother to clean myself up, I just wrapped a towel around my arm, the same towel I had been bleeding on, and I answered the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed.

"Ice skating. What are you doing here?"

She yanked me inside, and took me upstairs. I know she saw my mom, passed out on the couch, but she didn't say anything. Once we got into the bathroom, she pulled a bunch of crap out of her purse. Antiseptic, antibiotic cream, bandages: you name it, she had it. When she put the antiseptic on my arm, to clean it off, I shouted in pain.

"So you can handle tearing open your skin, but you can't handle a little twinge?" she asked, angrily.

"Hey, I didn't ask you for your help."

"Yes you did."

"No, as I recall, I didn't."

"What the hell do you think these cuts are for? You want help, even if you didn't ask for it."

"No, I want to be left alone."

"Ellie, Ash is dead, and you haven't cried, you haven't talked about it, you won't speak to anyone about anything. I want to know why."

I shoved her out of the way, and she fell on her butt. I raced into my room, and grabbed my razor again. One, two, three, four, lines of blood appeared on my arm. Five, six, seven, eight, I even managed to forget that Paige was even here. Nine, ten, suddenly Paige appeared at the door. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, and I heard a noise. I glance over at Paige, and saw something I didn't expect. She was sobbing. Not like at Ash's funeral either. This was loud, messy, uncontrolled. Not much would stop me from cutting, but that did. The blood dripped from my arms, onto my bedspread. I stared blankly at her.

"I couldn't help Ash," she said, sobbing. "There was nothing I could have done. I didn't even know she was dead until the next day. I couldn't have saved her life. But you…" she was still crying, "I could help you. You're still here, you're not dead. But I don't know how to help you. Nobody does. You know, I told Ash that you were cutting. The day she died, before the party started. She was so worried. She was going to confront you the day after the party. She said she didn't know how she could help, but she knew you needed help. Especially since you won't talk to Ms Sovet. Ash made me promise that I'd help. And I did. I promised that I'd help her help you. But now she's gone." Paige walked over to me, holding my arms, not noticing that I was bleeding all over her. She looked into my eyes, with the same look she had at the funeral. "Tell me what to do," she pleaded.

"Nothing," I said, not meaning it at all. "You've been a bitch to me since we've met, and now you want to help me? I will not be your little project that you complete in memory of Ash. Now get out of this house."

She looked at me sadly, and left. And then, for the first time since Ash had died, I cried. I had just turned away my last means of hope, and I didn't know what I'd do.



The next day, during school, Ms Sovet took me out of my first hour, halfway through it.

"I just wanted to know how you were doing," she asked me, once she had shut the door.

"Fine, I guess."

"You haven't been cutting anymore, have you?"

"Of course not, I told you I wouldn't."

"Then let me see your arms."

I froze. And then "Where the Hell is Paige?" I demanded, angrily.

"What does Paige have to do with this?" Ms Sovet asked me innocently.

"Where is she? She's outside the door, isn't she? Don't lie to me."

"Yes, she is," Ms Sovet admitted reluctantly.

"And she talked to you this morning, didn't she? Well, tell her to get her ass in here. If she wants to tattle on me, then she had better face me."

Ms Sovet opened the door, stepped out, and brought Paige back in.

"Weren't you listening to me yesterday?" I screamed. "I told you to butt out. And you too, Ms Sovet! None of this is any of your business. If I want to die…"

Suddenly, everyone in the room froze, including me. Had those words just come out of my mouth? Had I just said that?

And then, everything went black.