Trigger Warning: self harm
It had been two months since the girl had started self harm. It was an unusual time to start. There was nothing particularly horrible happening in her life, besides the everyday dread of interacting with people who made her want to cry. She had been depressed since around the time that her first boyfriend broke up with her, three months earlier, but had recently started to reconnect with her friends. It was an unusual time for her to start scratching herself, but that didn't stop it from happening.
She started one evening when she was almost in tears. There was no particular reason for her to cry, she was just mad at all of the misfortune that the world sent her way. She saw the sharp edge of the tweezers in the bathroom cabinet and before she could think she had fierce red lines covering her left wrist. The brief sharp pain from scratching herself had given the girl control over a small amount of hurt. The lines left by the tweezers were pretty. Unique. It was body art.
The lines had mostly faded by the next morning, but the white marks left behind were enough to provide a sense of calm, a sense of specialness, a way to not break down when the girl learned that she failed her math test.
The lines had mostly faded by the next morning, but the white marks left behind were enough to provide a sense of calm, a sense of specialness, a way to not break down when the girl learned that she failed her math test.
The next evening the girl scratched again. But this time she dug deeper. There was no blood, but the indent was significant. She scratched her upper forearm so that her sleeves would cover the marks left behind the next morning. She wanted this to be her secret. Her special mark. Somehow, she knew that she would feel shame if anyone else knew of her evening routine.
The girl continued scratching herself every evening after brushing her teeth. She always scratched in the same place, and the scar left behind took longer to fade each time.
One month ago the girl met a boy. He treated her with respect and seemed to value her. She had not felt this special since her ex had broken up with her. One date went well between them, and she slowly found happiness again. Spring came, and with it, this boy stole her heart. Well, stole as much as can be stolen by a near stranger. The girl no longer needed to self harm to control her pain, and she discovered makeup as a way to create body art. Scratching became less and less common.
Now, the girl is being asked to tell a secret by this boy. She knows that he has darker secrets than her own and would be understanding, but she is still too ashamed to tell of her self harm. Here is somebody who actually wants to know her, but she is too scared to let him in. Her secret pushes the source of her healing away.
All the girl had to do was lift her sleeve. Instead, the two never spoke again.
