A/N: Okay, this chapter is a bit graphic and deals with cutting. You Have Been Warned!

Disclaimer: I don't own, I RENT

FLASHBACK

Mark sat on the edge of his bed nervously eyeing the small piece of sharp metal in his hand. He was thinking about all his emotional pain as wall as the physical pain his father used to deal him. They were eating up his insides. He desperately tried to remain numb to them but failed miserably. The only way he could get release was with the razor blade resting between his thumb and forefinger. Right now he needed release. He needed to let his pain go, to get it out of his system and get on with his life. Mark looked at the idle razor in his hand. This was the only way . . .

Knowing exactly what to do, Mark rolled up his sleeve revealing past scars on his wrist. He placed the sharp edge of the blade to his thin wrist, took a deep breath, and pulled the blade across his skin.

A trail of deep crimson followed the razor, giving Mark the release he needed. He watched as the first cut spewed blood, and then started to make another one.

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Josie walked contently with Mark as they made their way home from school. She had been noticing that Mark was acting a bit nervous lately. He had taken to wearing long sleeved shirts all the time, even in gym class. This puzzled Josie because the weather was turning warmer but Mark still wore long shirts.

Today Josie decided to approach the subject. "Hey Mark?" Josie started casually as they turned down their street, "What's up with the long clothes? I mean, it's getting warmer outside and all, you're gonna be roasting soon."

Mark looked to the ground, "It's nothing." He said quietly, "I'm just cold these days. You know poor circulation and what not."

Jo nodded understandingly even though she didn't believe him. "Okay."

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Mark sat on the edge of his bed contemplating if he wanted this. His blade sat on his nightstand glaring at him. He needed this . . . but he needed to stop. Josie was getting suspicious. Could she know? No . . . she couldn't . . . he'd been so good about hiding the scars . . .

God, he needed to cut into his skin. The need was becoming unbearable.

Defeated, Mark took the sharp instrument off his nightstand. He thought about his pain and emotional grief. He placed the blade on his scarred wrist and made a cut.

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Josie walked out her front door across the street to Mark's house. She was determined to figure out what was wrong with her best friend. It was now or never. Josie was going to confront Mark and ask him what was wrong.

When she arrived at Mark's house, she climbed up his tree to the second story window that belonged to Mark. When she got there, she tapped on his window.

The window opened and Mark popped his head our. He looked like crap.

"What's up?" He asked, letting Josie in and following her to his desk.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" Josie prodded. "What's been bugging you lately? It's something big. Don't tell me there's nothing. I know there is."

Mark looked dumbstruck at Josie. How did she . . . ? He pulled his sleeve down more to hide his most recent scars. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? 'Cuz you look like a scared rabbit." She said, noticing him pull at his sleeves, "What's up with your arm?"

"Nothing," Mark was desperate. She couldn't know. That's not how it was supposed to be. "I'm fine Josie." He tried and failed to reassure her. Josie grabbed Mark's arm and yanked up his sleeve. "Josie, no!" But it was too late. She saw.

"Mark . . ." She couldn't believe what she was seeing as she held on to Mark's arm. "This . . . I . . . oh god . . ." Tears started falling from Josie's seal grey eyes. "Mark . . ."

"Josie, please listen to me." Mark pleaded, "I'm . . . I . . ."

"Why?" Josie choked out. She couldn't believe this. Why would Mark do this to himself?

"Josie, please . . . I don't . . . I can't explain . . . I just . . . oh god, I'm so sorry. . ." Mark pulled a sobbing Josie into a hug, tears falling down his own cheeks.

"Why?" Josie asked again through her sobs. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't," Mark choked, "I didn't know what you'd say . . ." he continued to cry into Josie's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry . . ."

"Promise me Mark . . . Promise me something." Josie said between her tears.

"Anything,"

"Don't do it again . . . and come to me if you need help." The pair held each other close.

"I promise."

A/N2: PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews are the guitar to my Roger