Chapter 2

                        After the first day of school, I actually did attend my father’s classes. Can’t say I actually paid any attention, but I attended and I guess it’s the thought that counts.

            Whenever I was in the hallway, I couldn’t stop myself from looking for Natalie; I never found her again though. So, one day, instead of going to class, I searched for her. It was quite easy actually.  With the veil being in use, I slipped from classroom to classroom to looking for her. When I finally did find her, she looked booked beyond belief.

            Instead of paying attention to her teacher, she was writing in her notebook. Curious, I looked over her shoulder and began reading what she had written and I was amazed.

            She was troubled. No troubled wasn’t the right word. She was depressed. In the notebook, she had written about how she hated herself and often the people around her because of her family’s status in the town. She came from a rich family. Of course all of the people around her would want to suck up to her. They wanted her money. They didn’t see her for who she was and she hated it. She hated herself for letting them do it. She hated them for doing it in the first place. She hated her parents for being rich and for never having time for her. But she had found a solution to all of her pain and hate. Cutting herself.

            I stood in shock over her. I was so deep in thought that I didn’t notice the bell had rung and she was leaving.

            Suddenly, I felt sick. The world around me began to rock and I felt like everything was falling away from me. My thoughts were racing so quickly in my head; I didn’t even have time to think about what they were about. I needed to get out. I needed to be alone. So I left.

            I walked out the backdoor of the school and walked toward the woods. Gradually, I began to walk faster and faster until I started running. And I didn’t stop running until I was in my room and the door was locked.

            My body fell back onto the bed and I laid there looking at the ceiling. In my head, I recalled all the things I had learned about self-harm.

            ‘It’s a bad thing. People use it as a way to ease their mental pain. It involves physical pain. Cutting the skin with a razor or knife; possibly burning the skin. Sometimes, it leads to suicide.’

            The last thought echoed in my head over and over again until I felt like the world was spinning.

            ‘Sometimes, it leads to suicide.  Sometimes, it leads to suicide. Sometimes, it leads to suicide’

            The word kept on repeating over and over.