• I let out a roar of pain as the long carving knife dug its way across my freshly healed skin, the pain shook my very core, but I held fast, I allowed it to sweep over me, my tan skin producing the crimsion blood that twirled down my arm and dripped into the white blinding bathtub.
    It was okay to scream now, as I looked at the back of my wrist, face down, the bumps of my joints showing through the thin frame of membrane. The pain subsided and then the freezing feeling came, it was cold and tingly and it took and wore the pain away and left me with a sense of pleasure. The blood began to clot up aroung the thin deep narrow cut. My hazel eyes glazing over from the few moments of detachment from my body, then like reality usually does, everything fell down as the pain came back, a dull throb this time, slipping my left hand in the kangaroo pouch in the front of my hoodie, i take out the athletic tape and the soft cotton wrap and begin binding the wound.
    When I get done with that task, I rinse the blood of the gleaming silver blade, the happy knife that always promises me closure and peace of mind. Slowly I fold the smiling blade up and tuck it safely in my sports bra and contiue by cleaning the blood out of the tub, moving swiftly I yank my sleeve down and turn to exit the bathroom. I have decided what I need to do, I need to confront my problem head on, the cut was to give me courage. I needed to stop hurting myself and I knew what I was doing was dumb but until I could find a diffrent way to deal with it I knew it would continue, so I grabbed the car keys off my victorian dresser and walked down the steep stairs, my tan-faded roper boots creaking against the old boards of my house, everyone was gone to Miles City for a state wrestling championship and I was about to commit a crime against the legal system, but I had to do this, alone.
    Moving intently and swiftly against the night I let my feet move automatically and allowed my mind to wander, getting into the front seat of my ford explorer I started the engine and in about two and a half hours I was at my Father's grave staring down at the mound of dirt that had become my respected and loved daddy. The thought plopped in my mind life a freshly rippened fruit, the tears overwhelmed me and blurred my vision and I began to gasp for air, I didnt have asthema like my little bro unless I cried hard and my dumb a** forgot her inhaler, I can feel the air come into my lungs what little my air way didn't cut off anyway, wasn't enough, I grabbed at my throat and fell to my knees, 'breath deeply. Take it easy.' The thoat came into my mind and was gone just as quickly, but I obeyed and soon I was breathing normaly, I settled down and leaned my head against the cold granite, "daddy I am sorry for blaming myself for you death, I know i didn't do it now and that you were upset I said I did." I said aloud so the trees, the animals, and all could hear I hand finally forgiven myself for something I didn't do. The air around my being changed and I felt free, the kind of free I felt when I was digging the happy blade into my skin, but this was so much more powerful.
    Digging into my sports bra I glanced down at the knife and smiled, putting it in my pocket and I patted my arm, and stared down at my surrondings, smiling still I turned around and began the long yet painless journey home and with that road I fianlly quite cutting,