I stumbled the last few steps to my bed and fell into it. Right when I felt my face hit the mattress, I let my image fall apart. I balled for what seemed like hours.

I put my earbuds into my ears and played my personal radio on full volume. A song from Fall Out Boy began playing. I ran through my house into my backyard and hid behind a tree.

I continued crying. The air was so cold there was a bit of fog surrounding the floor. I wiped away another tear and happened to glance over to my left. I stopped crying to realize what I saw.

I stood and slowly walked over at the object. Dark thoughts filled my head as I reached down to get the small rusted metal slab.

You deserve to feel pain! He won't come back to you! Maybe after your hurt, he will learn his lesson! This can help you get your mind off him! No one cares what you do, you can do whatever you want! Your mom has been a bitch to you, this can be her little test to see if she cares about you! You've had a tetanus shot a ways! Who knows, it could be fun!

I stared at the rough-edged iron, the thoughts eventually winning over. I sent the cold metal into my left arm first and dragged it across my skin. Immediately, burning pain surfaced. I looked down at what I did. I only saw a small line of red.

It's not enough! There's not enough burning sensation to distract you!

I sent it again, the pain a bit more as it overlapped the last cut. I did it again and again and again until there were the right amount of leaking red lines. In the middle of my arm, a few small dots leaked from the cut. I flexed my arm, sending more blood to gush out and more pain was sent searing through my arm.

I looked at my bicep and sent it dragging towards my shoulder once. A few lines felt enough. I admired my blood stained arm and saw that it had swelled up a bit. I slowly moved my sight to my right arm. I switched the metal into my left hand and drove it into my right arm as hard as I dared. Then a few more times.

I flexed my right arm, the blood came out a small bit more. I smiled at my new discovery. I chucked the metal chunk with a hard thrust of my hand and nicked my hand a bit while it flew, spinning away, but I didn't care. One other wound will just add to the sensation.

The pain is constant and I feel a new liking to the burning sensation. I walk into the house, hiding my arms from the view of my family. I entered the bathroom and held my arms out in the mirror and smiled. I grabbed a wet paper towel and wiped it with the cuts.

More pain seared through the cuts, I continued, ignoring but at the same time embracing the pain. I threw away the blood stained towel and got a dry one. I patted it dry and saw that my skin was pink. The metal that didn't get cuts on some areas on my arm were red from the friction of the rough edge.

I did the same with the other arm and could see that the cuts still produced the smallest amounts of blood. I smiled again, though it was a smile of image. I fake smile I had learned through practice.

My skills as a behaviorist told me that I was using this as a distraction for something I don't want to ponder on. I also knew that if I wanted to keep my recreational activity a secret I would have to keep up the act. The burning sensation was felt on the interior so covering them up was all that was needed.

I had given into the constance of the thoughts. All week was when bad shit was happening: mom getting pissed, school work getting overwhelming, not over the ex-boyfriend - you know he's not over you, but rules prevent getting back together, ectra.

Yes, now continue, my puppet. Make yourself feel better...