It's an addiction.

Your scars prove to others that you were stronger than what tried to hurt you. What if you tried to hurt you? What if you made yourself bleed? What if you did it?

 It's an addiction. We all know that click of kids in middle school and beyond that are the bad kids. They self-harm, they smoke, they piss teachers off on purpose, and they are mean. What we don't all see are the quiet ones. You never would think that the girl who gets every question right in math would be cutting her wrists. You never think that the girl who smiles all day long goes home and cries herself to sleep at night. You never think that the girl who you borrow pencils from all the time wants to die. You never see the fake behind her smile. You never see the hurt in her eyes. You don't see the mask that she wears everyday. You don't hear the screams of anguish when she is alone. You don't see the black inside of her. You don't taste the blood in her mouth. You don't feel the scars all over her. You don't smell the stench of burning flesh. You don't understand her. She isn't the quiet, smart, prepared, good little girl you think she is. She is slowly dying inside. Her parents don't know. Her mom constantly tells her she isn't good enough. Her dad works all the time. Her brother reminds her how fat and ugly she is. Her uncle screams at night. Her aunt doesn't do anything. She doesn't feel safe in her own home because of the negative energy. At school, the teachers talk too loud and fast. Her friends talk about how hard their life is but have no idea of hers. Her grades are all over. She only eats lunch so her friends won't question her. She always has a headache. School isn't a safe place either. She can't leave school in the middle of it and she can't leave home because she is grounded. Grounded all of the time. She can't do anything right. She can barely will herself to rise her head above the water. Her wrists will never be clean. She will never pass a drug test. She will never get the stench off her fingers. She won't be okay. She is never just tired. She never just has a headache. She never just had a sneeze attack. She never scratched her self rock climbing. She never will get to the point where she can stop. It's an addiction. It won't pass. It's not a phase. She hurts, constantly. All day and every day all she has to look forward to is the bathroom and her blade. She has something to keep that fake smile from fading, her blade. She has something to keep from screaming back, her blade. It will fix everything. It will make it go away. "Just wait to get to your bathroom" is all that runs through her head all day. She got to the point where it couldn't wait for home. It was in her pocket. The long sleeves covered it for a while. She could keep smiling and break down later. She could pretend. All of the sudden, pretending stopped working. Her friend found out. She told her parents. her blade was taken. They asked her to go get some help. She refused. She is better for now. Most of the time, the smile is real. The scars are fading. She's not grounded. Her mom didn't change. Her aunt helps now. Her grades are better. Her friends stopped most the drama. She let her scars show. She got stronger. She eats. She sleeps willingly. She doesn't take crap. She is happy for real, most the time. Every now and then she misses her blade. Every now and then she can't smile truthfully. Every now and then, she hates everything again. She misses it. She wants , no needs it. She wants the blood to come out. She wants to be okay but she can't be all the time. She wants to have never started but she did. It's an addiction.