Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of update. That pesky real life thing got in the way, haha. Hugs to Caffeine Productions and contentment is beautiful for the wonderful reviews. This takes place after 'Jesse's Girl'.

Let me feel, I don't care if I break down / Let me fall, even if I hit the ground / If I cry a little and die a little / At least I know I lived just a little.

'Way to fuck up royally,' Ellie Nash thought to herself as she sat on her bed, crumpled tissues and plastic cups littered around her. She downed the last of her drink and added the red cup to the pile of trash, disgusted with herself and fighting the urge to throw up. Boss Man, as Jesse had once been affectionately called, had cheated on her with her mentor. Well, her ex-mentor. And instead of handling it calmly, she had called said ex-mentor a slut on stage in front of a live studio audience. How professional of her.

The ex-mentor in question, Caitlyn Ryan, had come to apologize that morning. Her words had no effect on the fiery red-head, and within minutes of her departure, Ellie had done something she had sworn she would never do. She drank. And she drank a lot. There were at least six cups scattered at her feet, all of which had been filled with some alcoholic beverage. Now, drunk out of her mind, the college frosh sat on her bed and yelled at herself until she burst into tears.

She recalled something incredibly similar to this situation occurring many years ago. She remembered sitting on her bed, crying, tissues and razors and knives scattered around her bed. It had been the eighth time she cut herself. That time, though, she had gone a little deeper then planned. It hurt a little more than usual. And she had enjoyed it. That thought had made her sick and she yelled at herself until she cried. The next day she was enrolled in Group Therapy.

That day had been hell. Ellie remembered sitting on the hard plastic chair, snapping a rubber band on her wrist until the leader asked her, point blank, why she cut. Her answer had surprised her. "I cut," she had said, "because it is the one pain I can control." The leader had looked on encouragingly and before she knew what she was doing, the whole story came out. "My mother is an alcoholic and my father is away in the army. My mother's drinking hurts. My absent dad hurts. They both hurt me. Everyone hurts me," she had said bitterly.

The leader offered a consoling look and she continued. "It's control and power. Because for once, I can decide how much I feel like hurting. No one else is hurting me, it's just... me." The leader had frowned at this though, and told her to stay after the session ended. And she had, being the dutiful girl she was. She couldn't remember exactly what he had said, but she went home that night and cut herself for the ninth and final time. People would always hurt her, and she'd just have to suck it up. When it came down to it, she hurt herself more than others hurt her.

She remembered telling Craig that even though she may never cut again, she'd always be a cutter. And that was true, but it went deeper than that. She would always put herself down and beat herself up, and the emotional scars she put herself through were way worse than the physical ones.

A knock on the door pulled Ellie out of her thoughts. "Yes?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"It's Marco. Can I come in?" her best friend and roommate asked timidly.

She didn't respond, and he came in anyway. He sat on her bed and held her as she cried. "It's okay, Elle. It's okay. Don't beat yourself up so much, this isn't your fault," he said comfortingly. And even though she wanted to believe him, she couldn't. The philosophy of beating herself up mentally was embedded so deeply, she didn't think she could ever break the habit. While she wouldn't put a blade to her wrist, the torment she put herself through would always be with her. She was a cutter, that's what she was. And she would always be one.

Please review! The next chapter will be Marco's.