“Just stop, okay? It doesn’t help you to do THIS to yourself!” He grabbed her wrist and twisted it up, to show her new bandage and previous scarring from other sharp blades.

“Fuck you, alright. I don’t have to listen to you or anything you say. You have no IDEA what it’s like to be in my shoes. YOUR parents love you. YOUR parents are still together. YOUR parents don’t do drugs. YOUR parents don’t hit you…….” and then she started sobbing. Heavily.

“Hey… yeah… sorry.” He started to walk away, unsure of what to do or how to help, and couldn’t handle someone being so emotive. But she was his best friend, so he didn’t want to leave her, either.

She coughed a few times and took a few breaths. She watched him walk away, and spotted a piece of charcoal on the ground. An electrical box up ahead had been left free of street blemishes. She wanted to make one.

The charcoal crumbled a line onto the surface, so she scribbled heavier and more feverishly. She rubbed the thick dust with her fingers to make a wider smudge. Her spit landed on a fingertip and she traced her feelings into the created darkness.


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