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I wake up the next morning with sore wrist and I look at it. It's blue.

I check the time and it's 11AM and then I quickly text Madelin to make sure if she's okay.

I drop back down in bed and sleep for some more.

~~~

A knock on the door wakes me up the next time and I cover myself with a blanket because I'm not sure if I still have makeup on.

"Valeri." I hear my brother's voice. He sits down on my bed. "It's 2PM." I feel him try to uncover my face but I won't let him.

"I want to be alone."

He sighs. "Okay. I'll bring you lunch." I feel Alex get up and leave.

I get off the bed too and enter the bathroom. I search for some concealer and apply it on my cheek.

I go back in my room and lie down.

A few minutes later Alex comes in again. He's holding a plate with pasta.

I'm not really hungry.

Though he puts it on my lap and waits for me to start eating, I don't.

"Come on, just a little bit. I know you can do it."

I swallow some of it but I immediately feel sick. "I can't." I put it on my bedside table.

"I don't know what's going on with you, Valeri. But you don't eat, you sleep all the time, it's like you're not really here." I feel pain in his voice and it cuts right through me.

"How's Zach?" I surprise myself with the question. I want to change the topic.

Alex looks at me. "He's alright I guess. It just really hurt him, you know?"

"Yeah, I know I did. But we were together for only like, a week." I say.

He gives me a sad smile. "I know, but you have no idea how much he liked you."

That doesn't make me feel any better. In fact, why does his pain hurt more than mine?

I nod and lie down again.

"You have to eat."

"I know but I can't."

"I'll come back in an hour, okay?" He says and leaves my room.

Fuck I need to wash off Cade. I get up and go in the bathroom. I turn on water and step under it.

I rub at my neck and then on my thighs and I don't care if I have scars there, I just know I need to clean it off. But the problem is, it's invisible. Will it stay there forever?

Wait, what did Cade say, how was that other guy's name? I think Marc. Yeah, Marc.

Fuck, the urge...

I step out and search for my blade.

There it is.

I go back under hot water, sit down and put it on my ribs. I've never done it there, always on my thighs or my wrists. I press it down and pull it across my skin. I do it again and then do it on my thighs, where I still feel their touch.

I feel blood pour out of the cuts and I look at them. Why is it so satisfying seeing them turn red? I breathe in and out.

I wonder what would it be like if I just ...

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