4 Letter Word

**4 Letter Word- Line**

**4 Letter Word- Line**

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The bathroom door rattles under the force of my eighteen-year-old friend's fists.

"Come out, Virgin Mary." she squealed along with the banging on the door.

The blade in my right hand disagrees. The blood rolling haphazardly down my left forearm is prompting me to stay put. This is my first cut in three days. The longest I have ever been in this state.

"SKeee" A throaty, rattling noise comes out of her mouth. Yup! It's confirmed. She is drunk.

I sigh, turn on the sink, and address the situation from behind the closed door.

"I'm coming Anna." I hated when people give me nicknames. It was a painful reminder of my sins. My past.

My craving for the lovely lines on my wrist was unfathomable. The lines were almost like a wristband. So beautifully carved on my soft, shiny skin. My artistic nature could be seen here as well. In the neatness and in the precision of the lines that was deeply interlinked from one cut to another. Some are deep; some are light depending upon my mood. Each light and deep cut tells me that I'm in control of my pain, anxiety and fear.

These cicatrices are what keep me going.

"If you don't come out in five seconds, I will tell everyone that you are a V-" I didn't even let her finish the sentence as I flung open the door, little annoyed with her latest tactic for getting her way.

She hesitated and brushed a hand across her mouth in a childish gesture she used when nervous.

"Did you see the hawt guy standing near the bar?" She was shouting over the loud thumping music.

"No?" It was more like a question than a statement. It hardly mattered whether I saw him or not. They were all same.

She frowned unhappily and her eye brows shot up in bewilderment as her eyes searched my face for any sign of recognition.

"Skylar, why don't you pay attention to me sometimes? I always pay attention to even the smallest things that you say or do. You know so that you don't feel left out." She slurred and her eyes started to get glossy.

Please don't cry.

"I remember!!" I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind.

"You do?" she wiped the lone tear from her right eye. And then she smiled her ecstatic smile. "He will take you home." Before coming upstairs I had told her that I will be leaving in ten minutes. Now, it seems, I was in bathroom for almost half an hour. "I can drive." I felt bad for yelling this statement. She flinched at my tone "I know, but your parents won't appreciate you coming alone at this time of the night."

"Where are you going?" I questioned.

Her face paled and then I realized that it meant only one thing. Her sister. I touched her shoulder so that she could see the sincerity in my eyes. "I'm sorry Anna."

However my apology didn't make her feel any better.

Her nervousness grew "I told you that his best friend is- was my sister's best friend. I want to know what she was like with him. I have never talked to him before and today seems like a good day. He is drunk." So are you. "I have noticed he usually avoids me, but today he was looking in my direction." I knew this was hard for her. Her sister was what drew me towards her. I had affinity for tortured soul. She was one.

So am I. Tortured soul, that is.

I could spot such people from far away. It was my uncanny ability which was abnormal to say the least.

"Will you be ok?" I asked in an attempt to distract her thoughts, which was funny considering that her sister was our reason for bonding.

"I think so." She mumbled.

"Tell me if you need me. Ok?" I noticed that I had used ok so many times during our conversation. She was changing me and I didn't like the way I was getting concerned about her safety.

"Ok" and with this I rushed out of that room.

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