Alone in the corner the girl steadily rocked her injured arm back and forth as the pain disappeared with her tears. The cold steel blade lay next to her with the few precious drops of her innocent red life barely cascading down the jagged bruised edges. Confused and oddly satisfied with what she had done to herself she slowly stood, still cradling her injured arm like a newborn baby. She wiped away the precious drops of life from the jagged edge of her year old friend and placed it back in its cradle on the counter. Her hands slowly starting to shake as she turned the bloody brass knob and cool crisp water rushed over her torn red arm. She slowly pat it dry with a wooly white cloth. With the water still running and her salty checks burning from the tears she splashed some on her face as she heard a car pull up the drive. Peering out the window she saw her Mom closing the driver’s door. Quickly with her heart pounding almost as fast as her arm she ran to her room and grabbed a large red sweatshirt to cover her secret. She knew they wouldn’t understand the comfort it gave her. She knew they would take it away from her, and if she didn’t have it she didn’t know how she would survive.
