Dan

The blade danced angrily across my arm.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four, five, six, seven.

Every new mark matching an old memory banging around in my skull. Every new and horrid "first" in my life.

The first snarky comment.

The first push.

Punch.

Kick.

The first time I tried to fight back.

The first time it failed.

The first time I tried to make a real friend.

The first time I got denied.

And the first time I tried to care about someone.

They were all useless firsts. Just like me. Useless first child. Useless first friend. Useless first love. I was nothing and I was always going to be nothing. I couldn't change that. No one could.

There was no light left in my life. After Harper, my little sister . . . She was gone and all of the happiness was practically drained out. Not planning on returning anytime soon.

More and more I sliced through. Wanting to end everything once and for all. Suddenly, I stopped. I could. I really could end everything, right here and right now. I didn't know what I would feel, but I looked up at the mirror, my reflection staring back at me.

He was smiling. And so was I.

I took the blade and placed it almost gently at the beginning of my forearm. As I looked back at the mess in the mirror, I forced the sharp edge down. As deep as it could go. And pulled towards me.

In all my excitement;

I didn't hear the pounding on the door. Only the pounding in my head.

I didn't hear the cries for the door to open. Only the cries of the voices, urging me to do it.

I didn't hear the sound of the door breaking open. Only the sound of my body hitting the tile floor.

And everything went dark.