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He got up out of bed, and began to walk in the darkness. He had to be careful not to accidentally stumble across something; after all, he didn’t want to wake Mum and Dad. Yet he knew the house better than the back of his hand, and so reached the kitchen without trouble.
He had had another horrid day of being bullied. More horrid than ever, in fact. Normally, they just pinned his arms behind his back until he gave them his lunch money. This was different, though. Their actions had this time given him a cut lip, black eye, sore leg and several bruises on his back. Then, when he got home and Mum asked what happened, he lied and said he’d had a fall. What was the point in telling Mum, anyway? She wouldn’t understand.
He paced around the kitchen, his hands guiding him, until he found the cutlery drawer. Once he opened the drawer, he searched it slowly, sure to make no noise, which was quite difficult to do in the dark. He wanted to turn on the light, but that would definitely wake Mum and Dad up.
About a minute later, he found what he had been looking for: the sharp knife Dad used on big steaks. He stared at the space that he was sure the knife occupied, and numerous thoughts took over his brain, none of which were good ones.
What happened next was on instinct. He brought the knife to his arm so that the blade rested on his wrist. In a flash, the point on the blade was on the other side of his wrist, and he felt a searing pain. How much blood would there be when his parents…?
He moved the knife so that it pointed toward his chest. He was ready to do it. He began to plunge the knife…
And then he stopped.
There were new thoughts in his mind. How would Mum and Dad feel, when they found their son, dead on the floor? How would his mates feel? Would they ever be the same again? And the girl, the girl he loved…
Just an hour before he was beaten up, he had admitted to her that he loved her, and she ran off in disgust. Then, when he was beaten up, who stopped it? Her. This proved that she had some feeling towards him. How big would her tears be, if he died of suicide?
Shaking, he returned the knife to the drawer, which he closed. He washed his cut, and returned to bed. He swore never to cause self-harm again.
And he kept to this promise.