It became HER daily routine. Wake up, morning routine, walk in the shower, cut-cut-cut, after the blood stopped, dress up and go to school. Her sleeves hid HER cuts.

All those eyes were still on HER, those despicable words still being heard.  It hurted. So SHE walked to the bathroom, hid in the stall, and cut. Now it felt better. The pain made the worries flow away with the blood. So did the tears. SHE couldn't cry anymore. There was no place left on her arm anymore. So SHE started cutting on HER legs.

These went on for days, weeks.

That day as HER Mom called HER down for dinner SHE looked quite pale to HER mother. SHE reached the dinning table but before SHE could take her seat, SHE fainted.

HER parents held HER worried, laid HER on the bed. HER mom started freeing HER from HER hoddie thinking it might be hot, but what she saw made her scream in horror.

SHE regained HER consciousness and found HER mother crying. SHE asked for the reason and HER mother held HER wounded arm in her shaky hands.

That's when, for the first time in weeks, SHE started crying. Her parents held HER. They never gave HER enough of their time even though SHE was thier only daughter, but they loved HER dearly. They could'nt see thier precious daughter in pain. SHE loved them too.

They begged HER not to do it again and SHE agreed. For the sake of HER parents. SHE stopped.