ChristinaA Story by LucioleA very short story of self-harm.She
smelt it before she had seen it. Blood. She felt it drip from her arm. She
remembers how just last year, her friends and her had made fun of a girl at the
mall for the scars running along her arm. Now, as Christina cut into her own
arm the memory feels several years old. She
kept her eyes focused on the painting in her bathroom. It was a copy of a
beautiful painting she’d seen at the Museum of Modern Art. When she first saw
it on the white walls of the New York City museum, she felt something spark within
her. She fell in love with the painting and had to have it. As she gazed at it
now, it was like it wasn’t there. All it did now was allow her to ignore the
sting of the razor cutting into her. “Christina!”
She
stopped, not scared or nervous, simply interrupted. “I’m
only shaving, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She let this out with such an
emotionless tone; even she picked up on it. She added an “I promise” to seal
the deal. She was answered with an okay. Finally Christina looked down at her
arm. With a deep breath she threw the razor into the sink and put the water on.
She proceeded to wash her arm too and finally placing a large gauze band-aid.
She was surprised it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. Then again
isn’t that point? © 2013 LucioleAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorLucioleMy Imagination , NJAboutLuciole is a pen name. In French it means "firefly" I'm a 18 year-old girl who loves to write, read, and listen to music. I'm a little bit of a nerd. I like to sing a lot more than I'd care to ad.. more..Writing
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