Scars of Pain, Tears of Love

A girl has a rough night and feels the need to cut herself. She texts her boyfriend to focus her mind on something else, but is it any use?

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1. Scars of Pain, Tears of Love

             My heart is pounding out of my chest strong and loud as I lay in bed underneath my warm, soft blankets. My body shivers trying to bump up my temperature to normal and I shake out of fear. My stomach becomes upset and I try to hold back throwing up as I feel nauseated. Cold, wet tears run down my pale white face from my brown-ish topaz eyes; I let the tears roll, not pushing any of them away. I stare at the green glow of my alarm clock as I read that it is 1:00 in the morning. My thoughts play tug-o-war while I stuff my head into a squishy pillow, trying not to scream.
             Should I text him? Or should I just do it?
              
I decide to text my boyfriend. I quickly grab my phone on my night stand. The white light from the phone is very bright, almost blinding. I type away on the keyboard, and then hold my shaking thumb over the “send” button; afraid to wake him, but this is an emergency.
              Boyfriend: hey sweetie, wht u doin up this l8? Whts up?
             Me:  I couldn’t fall asleep. I’m tired, upset & anxious
             Boyfriend: I’m srry luv, is there anything I can do? I love you <3
             Me: IDK, I just need some1 2 talk 2, I need distraction so I don’t do it.
             We talk a little while longer. I start to feel a bit calmer, but not enough to fall asleep. We end the conversation and I catch my hand reaching for my keys. I try with all of my strength to hold my arm back, but it’s no use, it’s too late. My hand grabs onto the cold, sharp keys and my hand slowly came toward my arm. My temperature starts to rise, tears were falling, and the only thing I could hear was my heart pumping fast. I role up my sleeve and press the keys to my skin. I drag them across as red beads of blood rose to the surface. I drag them across a few more times and start to feel calmer. My mind goes blank and I feel very relieved. My pale white arm was now torn up like a garden that had been rototilled and painted scarlet red.  
             I head to the bathroom. The floor tiles are freezing as I step on them with my bare feet. I turn the faucet on in the tub to wash off the blood. The water feels warm and it stings as it seeps into the cuts. I watch as a river of red flows down the drain. I grab a towel and pat my arm dry. I snatch some gauze from the first aid kit and wrap it around my arm tightly, not too tight because it is throbbing with pain. Now I can sleep. So I hop into bed.
             It’s later that day. My boyfriend and I are walking and settle down on a park bench, surrounded by trees, where no one can see us. He holds my hand and his soft, warm lips touch mine. He looks down to my wrist where he feels something. It is my gauze. My sleeve was inching up my arm a bit. He asks if I had cut myself. I look at him with tears in my eyes and my light golden brown hair hides my face as I say nothing to him. He returns the look, with tears in his eyes. He rolls up my sleeve slowly and sees that the gauze almost reaches my elbow. He asks if he can take it off. I say fine. My heart stops as the gauze comes completely off. Tears run down my flushed face. He tucks my bangs behind my ear and wipes the tears away from my eyes with his hands. He pulls me close and hugs me tight. He whispers into my ear “I Love You and I am always here for you no matter what.” 

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