Not too deep my subconcious screams at me from where I have buried it some place deep within. I try to shut it all out, the compass held steady, poised waiting. I try not to cry and scream in my head but the pain that I can still feel is too raw. My emotions too real as I look at the world as I perpercieve it around me. why me? I think for the thousandth time. what did I do?
My hand shakes and I press down harder and harder as I stare at the abandoned park. Shivering I make one line after another, until I feel nothing. My arm has gone numb now, like my mind as sit and feel nothing. Closing my eyes I feel the overwhelming pain and doubts flee with the fresh flow of blood that leaves each wound.
After a time, I don't know how long, my mind begins again, looking down I look at my handiwork and shudder as revulsion flows through me until I'm almost sick. But I've hit the master switch, the reset, I'm ready! I think as I stand, tuggin down my sleeve, I press the black fabric to my arm until it sticks. I'll sort it out later.
Mum stares as I walk slowly through the front room, she knows, my mind whispers as I shrink in on myself. No, noone realises. I reassure myself as I make for my room. If they did they could not love me still. They'd judge and make comments. Ultimately they'd never understand.
My hoodie pulls and the lines itch, as they have already begun to heal. I hate the pulling and the sharp pain as I reopen the small cuts one at a time, so that I can dress them properly in white, making sure I keep the bandage where it won't show under my sleeves. All I can do now is keep them hidden. No one but me can know.