Now they were definitely looking at me. I knew it, and they knew I knew. But that was just what they wanted. They all wanted to hurt me. Like some kind of sick joke. They all wanted me to be scared, and they knew looking at me would do the trick. And they all knew about my arm. They all knew about the hit. And they were loving it. ‘You feeling better?’ my friend said to me when I saw her. ‘What?’ I replied, surely she knew. Everyone knew. ‘Mrs Humphreys told us you went home cos you were sick….So…are you feeling better?’ she said, with an almost patronising tone. She was lying. I knew it. She must have been. But maybe I could play along anyway. Maybe if I could convince other people it wasn’t true, I could convince myself. ‘Yeah, a bit better,’ I lied ‘my stomach was just killing me yesterday, you know, cramps and all that.’ And she took it. She believed it. That’s what happened, I was ill, yeah, I was ill, I had cramps, so I went home. That was it. But as soon as I got back into the corridor I knew I was wrong. Louise might have believed it; she might still be ignorant. But everyone else knew. They did. She had obviously missed the rumour somehow. So again everyone was looking at me. I pulled my sleeves over my hands and kept my head down. I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone, they would find out more. They would hate me more. They would beat me and laugh at me. Everyone wanted to laugh at the depressed girl. I ran to the toilets and cried. No one ever came to the year 10 toilets, thank God. I sat on the top of the seat and reached into my bag. I felt the blade cold and metallic between my fingertips. My beauty. It would help. It would make everyone go away, make the world go away. I could be myself again. But I didn’t need it. You never need it. Never. It would help. But it wasn’t necessary. I told Kelli that so many times. I couldn’t go back on that now. I didn’t need it. Yes I wanted it, but I never needed it. All the fucking times she told me that she needed to cut, she had to start again, she had to. Fucking bull. It was a selfish, hollow addiction, she wanted it, cos in some twisted way it made her feel better. No matter how much it hurt other people. I wasn’t hurting anyone else. I was being selfish. I didn’t need it. But I wanted it. More than anything, I wanted it.