I had just gotten home from another crappy day at school.
No one was home except for me and my mind.
I went to my room and slammed the door.
I lit a candle and shut of the light.
My hand reached under my bed for the tool.
The tool that I use when I'm lost and confused.
The tool happened to be a little knife.
I sat down on the floor and pulled up my sleeve.
I looked down and saw all of the scars.
The result of the secret ritual performed day after day.
I pulled the sleeve up higher and held the knife to the skin.
My hand pressed a little and a straight line of red appeared.
I felt my head get dizzy.
I tried to hold still.
The music in the background was getting soft.
Trying to blow the candle out I must've tipped it over because
I was staring at my room engulfed with flames.
Where am I now?
In a hospitol bed recalling the events of yesterday.
Soon to be transfered to a mental hospital in New York....
TO BE CONTINUED
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