• "I needed some real danger and some mortal risk to run, to tranquilize me."

    -Alexander Dumas, Ten Years Later

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    I stared at the lines on my arms. Momentarily, I felt a knot loosen in my stomach. Continuing to stare at my arm, I shuddered, knowing that I needed to feel that satisfying feeling, that tranquilizing pain…

    Maybe that sounds a bit like an oxymoron… “tranquilizing pain.” Really, though, it isn’t. The physical pain I felt when my skin was bitten by the sharp metal killed the emotional hurt flaring inside of me.

    Not only was the pain acting as a revised aspirin, it also just made me feel… elated. Doctors will call it “endorphins.” Whatever, call it whatever scientific name you want. I call it ecstasy. With each cut, I would feel first a sharp, sudden pain. After what seemed to be half a millisecond, the pain would blossom into… a warm, fuzzy glow, as I pictured it. I could literally feel that glow flowing from my cut, running with my blood, into ever cell in my body, giving me new life I had never before experienced.

    Grabbing the razor, I slid it across without even thinking. Pain. Ecstasy. Bliss. Over and over, I watched the red lines appear like magic on top of my skin. Maybe it’s messed up for me to think this, but when I stared at my bleeding tattoo, I only had one thought: Beautiful. It was beautiful, a work of art. I couldn’t take my eyes off the red painting growing down my arm.

    Nothing, absolutely nothing, held this much twisted beauty.

    ----

    Sitting in class is torture for you. You stare at the clock intently, studying every feature so closely that you don’t even realize when the bell rings. Running out of the school as fast as you can, you don’t stop for anything. It’s as if everybody is watching you… you wish that they’d stop. Of course, nobody is watching you. Nobody notices that girl, running like she’s being chased by rapists.

    You are being chased by rapists. Not the inhuman half-men who violate women, but the thoughts that rape your mind and spirit. The rapists known as Negativity and Sorrow, the two most deadly to ever exist. No matter where you run, you can’t escape. They’ll always come after you to play their games, only then leaving if chased by a razor.

    They come to you at random, the times when you’re least expecting. You’ll be with your friends, talking, laughing, thinking for one foolish moment that your happiness has been restored, and you are attacked. Negativity and Sorrow swoop down to devour their prey, leaving no mercy. You beg for your mind to be spared, but their hearts have been hardened, and they refuse to yield.

    You don’t stop running until you’re up in your room, the razor is out, the flesh is torn. At last, the vile beings have fled from your broken soul, but the damage has been done.

    They have tasted blood.

    Like a rabid dog on the loose, they will not rest until they’ve tasted more. Not until they’ve claimed your life.