A/N- I came up with this when I was reading another story and the plot bunny jus up and kicked me in the ass till I wrote it. I don't expect anyone to read it but anyway…

Some do it from lack of anything else to do. Some do it because they feel it's their only outlet.

But me? Nah, I do it because it's an addiction. Something that, after the first time, you can't help but do it again. Something inside me screams out for it. Something so strong, I would be an idiot to ignore it. My body yearns for it. The cold silver pressed against the pale skin. Something inside waits in anticipation for the red to spill out. It doesn't like it blue. Red was the only way to go.

Do it, it screams. Theres no other way, it promises.

And you know, I think its right. I spend my day, wandering from class to class numb. I eat my meals numbly, as if I'm not really there. My life is so surreal. It's as if I'm floating through the days, the months, the years, as a ghost, a spirit. Sometimes I feel as though I'm not myself and I see myself through someone else's eyes. As if I'm on the outside looking in.

As I float from my classes, back to my room, I think, could this be true? I lie down on my bed and stare up at my ceiling.

Do it, it begs. With a soft caress, I pull the glinting silver from my bag. It's cold against my skin. It guides me across the street. Making sure I don't get hit by anything. Sometimes it takes my hand and steers me down the road, making sure I steer clear of speed bumps.

The red seeps down the pale skin and it smiles at me and leaves me alone. Then I'm left numb, staring at the ceiling. It's still surreal. I don't feel anything.

Then it appears again. It guides my hand, holding harder than usual. I breathe out a sigh of release as pain shoots through my arm.

I mop up the blood and put the blade away, deftly staring at the cuts. I drag my nails over them, smiling at the pain.

Then I'm back. Back in my body. The numbness leaves me and I feel tingly. I regain control of my limbs and I thank it.

It always knows what to do.

It always knows…

It knows that sometimes I need to bleed just to know that I'm alive. And I do.

You're welcome, it says.

Sometimes the pain of it all is the only thing that brings me back to reality.

A/N- There. Depressing and cold. Just the way I like it. Well... I like it other ways but I thought this was cool.

See, I used to cut and sometimes this is how it was for me. Something in me would guide my hand. I felt controlled… But that part of my life is over. Thanks for reading. Reviews are welcome!