How long would it take to heal? I just wanted it all to go away. I would have PE soon, everyone would see it, and I’d be sent to Ms Fallow’s office, just like Kelli was so many times. She’d be taken away, asked to meet her at lunchtime, she never told me why. But it always seemed like everyone else did. People would come up and talk to her about ‘something’ in private, which of course, when I asked was always ‘nothing’. How ever many times she said I was her best friend, I couldn’t quite believe it. I wasn’t that important to her. Not as important as her friends online. The people from SH websites who would go out and get pissed and stoned to try and fade out their worthless sorrows because they could never be strong enough to actually stop them. And smoking, fucking smoking; as if they weren’t doing enough to kill themselves. Kelli kept that a secret even longer than the SH, but I always knew, I tried not to think that badly of her, but I knew her too well, anything to rebel and give her the smallest hollow kick. She knew how much I hated it, but that meant nothing to her, just reinforced the need to hide it from me. I wondered what those ‘friends’ would be thinking now. She probably told them, left them a suicide note, gave them a chance to change her mind. Like I said, I was never that important to her. There was always someone else to talk to before me; because I didn’t understand? Because I hated it so much? Now I fucking understood, if only she could see me now… Thinking didn’t help, thinking made me feel worse. It pulled up every last emotion, everything I had ever felt for Kelli, and that hurt. It didn’t take long for me to start thinking about the blade. I’d done it once, what difference would one more time make? I went to the bathroom, picked up the blade and cut again into my arm. And again, yes, it helped.