Darling, you'll be okay

That night when I got home, I felt nothing but numbness. There was an odd feeling in my chest, but my emotions had turned themselves off. There was only one thing to do.

I snuck quietly to my dresser, retrieving my forgotten blade. It smiled up at me as if welcoming me back.

As I lifted the blade from its hiding spot, I heard a knock on the door. I quickly dropped it back in place and slammed the dresser shut.

"Lena?" It was Rylee.

"Come in,"I said. "What's up, little bro?"

He stepped into my room. "Lena, can you help me with my homework?"

"Of course," I smiled at him and followed him to his room.

We were about half-way through solving math equations when he set down his pencil. "Lena, why do you seem so sad all the time?"

This caught me by surprise. "What do you mean, little bro? I thought I seemed happier since I met Tristan?"

His wide eyes looked into mine. Oh how sincere and innocent young eyes are. "You did," he said, "At first, but now, you look really sad again."

I forced myself to smile. "Don't worry, Rylee. Everything is great and I'm really happy." I hate to lie, but I didn't want to crush him. He's so young and full of hope.

After I had tucked Rylee in, I trudged back into my room. I locked the door behind me as soon as I reassured myself that everyone was asleep.

Walking over to my dresser, I lifted the blade once more.

My conversation with Rylee made me think of Thomas. I wonder if Rylee would be okay without me? Of course he would. Lena, you're a worthless piece of shit. No one needs you.

This thought gave me the incentive to carry on.

"Where were we?" I asked my old friend,

The razor pierced my skin. Such beautiful agony. I carved my pain into my flesh.

"She paints a pretty picture,
but this story has a twist,
Her paint brush is a razor,
And her canvas is her wrist,

She paints her pretty picture,
But her picture has a twist,
Her mind was her razor,
And her heart was her wrist."

Notes