Stop Crying Your Heart Out

Chapter One

With a nervous sigh, I placed the silver blade close to my skin. It was midday, and from what I could tell, I was the only one here. I had taken a restroom pass from Algebra to get here, knowing that very few people came here at this time of day. Leaning over the sink, I tried to figure out what I was most afraid of. Did I honestly think that someone would catch me in the act? And if they did catch me, would they even care? No.

I had done this a million times, and I knew that eventually I would have to stop. I was running out of invisible places to cut. I was running out of everything…running out of love, hope, and even fear. Right now, I had to be ashamed of myself, afraid of my actions, and in love with Sean. If I kept telling myself that I loved him, and that I sincerely cared about my own life, then maybe I could make it true. If I kept lying, maybe I could make myself real…at least to myself.

The bathroom door swung open, and I quickly tossed my compass back into my tassel. At least this time I had a solid excuse not to cut without being ashamed of my weakness. If I had continued for a moment longer, Manny would have caught me.

It was so strange, watching her. We went to the same school, and had often had classes together, but I always felt like she was from a different world. Maybe it was my virginity that separated us…or perhaps the fact that she had an abortion. But I knew there was a deeper feeling behind our separation, something that none of Paige's rumors or society's ideas could define. I had my own reasons to feel guilty, and the last thing I wanted was to judge Manny Santos for hers. To me, she was the shell of a beautiful person. Even if she was gone inside, there was still the faded beauty that would make people want her. And I hadn't even kept that for myself.

"What are you doing?" Manny demanded, tossing her silky brown hair behind her as she approached the mirror. When I watched her lean forward to fix her mascara, her every move reinforced my opinion of her. She was like a shadow of a person who didn't quite exist. She had the beauty of a shattered vase. The shards were beautiful in their own way, but they would never bear any resemblance to the original object that time and hatred would ruin.

"Nothing," I sighed, pulling my tassel over my shoulder. "I was just leaving."

Her chocolate eyes met mine as I made my way for the door. "I don't believe it," she whispered. "You're the one with the cutting problem, aren't you?"

Looking back at the school tramp, I couldn't help but feel angry. It was pathetic, the two most pitied kids at Degrassi discussing how I was screwed up. But then…I didn't pity her, or anyone else. To me, she was Manny. And even if she didn't know me, I knew more about her than she realized. "So, what?" I demanded. "Just because I had some kind of problem means that I don't have permission to use the bathroom anymore?"

Awkwardly, Manny pulled a pencil that had lost its eraser from her purse, and began to scratch her skin. "All I'm saying is, I won't tell if you won't."

I couldn't believe that she was doing this. It made me feel like such a hypocrite to be angry with someone else for cutting, while I did the same thing myself. But somehow I found myself fully absorbed in watching her, as if nothing else mattered. Just to see the little girl who tried so hard to grow up standing there, tearing herself apart. "Manny, I know I can't talk, but please stop. Once you start, you'll never get out of it."

Lifting her sleeves, Manny revealed a series of scars more severe than my own. "It's how I keep myself pure. If I give out, I give my secret away with it. It's how I can make sure it never happens again."

My brow furrowed as she spoke. Why was Manny telling me this? Probably because I stood at the lowest rung of the social ladder, and I had no friends to tell about her, even if I wanted to. But my curiosity got the best of me. "Why are you telling me this?" I asked her.

I realized, of course, that Manny wasn't paying attention to me, only to her pain. Watching her cut into her gorgeous skin made me want to scream. I wanted to tear the pencil from her manicured hands and snap it in half, so she would never hurt again. I wanted to tell her to stop, that she was worth more than that. And I wanted to tell her that, from afar, someone cared more than she knew. But I couldn't do any of those things. How could I help her, when I couldn't even help myself?

Her quiet whisper beckoned me away from the door. "Ellie. Do you hate me like everyone else does?"

Slowly, I blinked. Where had that come from? I could think of many words, but hatred was not among them. "Why would I hate you?"

"Never mind," she huffed. "But if you tell them about me, then I can just as easily tell about you…that you haven't exactly stopped like you said you would."

I was taken aback. "Is that a threat?"

Manny's eyes became serious. "It is."