Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sammie would be staying in the guest room, and act like he was a part of the family as well, when he came over. That meant he could mess with my little brother too. I always made him cry, not always on purpose though, I’m not that mean of an older sister, you know. I knew that I would also have to suspend myself from cutting. It wasn’t something I chose to do, but it was my parents that drove me to it. My dad would always pressure me to keep my grades up and study every night for at least twenty minutes before I could do anything else. He wanted his only daughter to be the most perfect one in the whole town. And my mom, she was just as worse! Instead of helping me and keeping dad chilled down, she would just pressure me more to do exactly what my dad said. Or else she was going to ship me to an all-girl boarding school in England. And one night I just couldn’t take anymore, so I took the knife from the kitchen and went into the bathroom. I pressed it to my wrist and just sliced it. When the blood started to pour out, it just felt so good. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but it made me feel better and better about myself than ever before. And ever since then I’ve been cutting. I usually cut myself like three times a day and I tend to keep the cuts on my wrists, upper thighs, and my stomach. That’s why I never wore a bikini so no one would know. But, I always wore shorts when I went swimming anyway. I cut when I wake up, after school, and before I went to sleep. It was like a daily routine to me. A routine that was hard to stop. Sometimes if I didn’t cut I would start to feel woozy or I would have a huge headache. I wore so many wrist bands it was impossible to see the cuts. I would only remove them when I cut, but otherwise they are always there.

Anyway, the bell rang and art was over. My next class was history with Mr. Spit. His name was really Mr. Smitt, but he spits with every word he says, so we call him that instead. I usually sit near the back so I don’t get sprayed with his saliva, but I feel bad for the kids that do sit in the front. I watched as Jess came in with me and sat down on my right, while Sammie sat down on my left. I took my phone then out of my bag and started to text both Sammie and Jess, while hiding my phone behind my generic blue history binder.

‘Hey.’ I texted them.

‘Do u forgive me?’ -S

‘What happened this morning?’ �"J

‘I forgive u but u will have 2 tell me’ �"me to S

‘Nothing Sammie was keeping something from me’ �"me to J

‘What did u do 2 Sara?’ �"J to S

‘Nothing we walked to school together’ �"S to J

‘Something happened, she came in crying’ �"J to S

‘I’ll tell you when the times right like I said in the letter’ �"S to me

‘I’ll tell you in lunch’ �"S to J

History went on and on. I had to pay some attention or more pressure will happen at home. I put my phone away and took out a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. I began to doodle little stars and hearts. In one of the hearts I wrote Sammie’s name. I quickly realized what I was doing and I erased it. I didn’t think of Sammie that way. Did I? My heart thumped loud in my ears. When the bell rang I jumped.