2. The broken
Blood dripped to the floor as the knife left her skin, tears swarming her eyes. This wasn't the first time this blade had met her skin, her legs and wrists proved it. She grabbed a small cloth, whipping the blood up with it. She had never told her mother what she did, nor had she told her that she still does it. She was so scared her mother would yell at her, push her that one more inch to death.
Alice stood, pulling her sleeve down. She went to the sink, looking in the mirror. In the mirror stared a girl she hated, one she wished she could never see again. She seemed to make a growling sound, looking down at her sleeves, the blood was seeming to just pour out of her. Her sleeves were tainted red and slightly dripping with the red liquid. Alice took a large breath, pulling here sleeves back up, she stuck both arms under the cool water. The cuts burned, but it felt nice for once instead of the pain she normally felt when making the wounds. Alice noticed less blood seemed to be coming out of the wounds now, so she turned off the water and grabbed a paper towel to apply pressure to the cuts. She noticed they had clotted well, so she threw away the towel promptly.
The bell rung, marking the end of school. Alice placed the blade into her pocket, pulling her hood up carefully. The voices would start again, the ones calling her the horrible names. The ones forcing her this far would laugh at her wounds if they saw them, and call her weak and horrible once more. Call her names of horrid people, she was Ms. Hitler most of the time, "since you have the same mustache as him" The laughter started again behind the girl who had just spoken, Alice tried to ignore her, but if you are called something every day you start to believe it, start to hear it. Alice got onto the bus, taking her normal spot in the back. Alice's heart seemed to cry as the names kept coming at her, every time a name was called her heart shrank inch by inch.