The First Cut is the Deepest

Chapter 1

-The Next Day-

*Buzz.  Buzz.*  Are you ok?  --C

"Oh yeah just fucking peachy!!!"  I screamed as I threw my phone.  It shattered against my bedroom door.  Mere seconds later the same door opened and my two best friends, Teddy Altman and Maura Isles, walked in.

"Sweetie, what was that loud crashing sound?"  Teddy asked as she sat on the bed beside me.

Maura, still standing in the doorway, looked down and started to gather the pieces of my shattered cell phone.

"Arizona?"  Teddy looked between me and my cell phone fragments in Maura's hands.

"She texted me and asked if I'm ok.  How the fuck does she think I could possibly be okay!?"  I yelled and broke into a fresh set of tears.  Teddy and Maura quickly wrapped me in a protective hug,  but I pushed them away.  "I just... I wanna be by myself."

"Sweet--"  Teddy started to argue before Maura interrupted.

"Okay.  We'll be in the living room if you need us."  They both kissed the top of my head and left the room.

I laid in bed staring up at my ceiling fan going around, and around, and around for almost 3 hours before I got up and went into my en-suite bathroom.  Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I didn't recognize the woman I saw.  Like me, she had blonde hair that covered her breasts, blue eyes, and I'm sure if she had smiled she would have had dimples.  But her blonde hair was a knotted mess.  Her blue eyes weren't the cheerful one's I was used to seeing, they were reddened, puffy, and the warm bright blue was more slate colored and cold now.

I felt dead inside.  I pulled at my hair so hard I could have swore I was going to pull it out, but nothing happened.  I still felt nothing.   I looked down at my wrists.  The ancient scars from my past seemed to taunt me.  'No Arizona!  Don't even think about it!' I chastised myself for the thoughts I was thinking.  I'd spent too many years stopping and recovering from cutting,  and I was not going to throw it all away.  I couldn't.  I worked too hard.  'But it helped you feel, remember?'  'No! Stop it!'  'Come on ZoZo.  You know it will make you feel again.'  'Maybe it will right now, but it won't last.  Before I know it it will get out of hand again.  It's NOT good!  I CANNOT do it again!  It'll hurt so many people.  I don't want to hurt anyone again.'  'Awe, come on ZoZo. Come on.'

I couldn't fight with myself any more.  With a shaky hand I reached on top of the medicine cabinet and blindly started to search for the jewelry box I hid there a long time ago and had forgotten about, until now.  When I found it I froze,  and slowly brought it down, laying it on the blue marble counter-top.

I cautiously opened the box and revealed a single, stainless steel, razor blade.

"I shouldn't do this." I whispered as I picked the blade out of the box.

"I shouldn't do this."  I whispered as I pressed the blade against my left wrist.

"I shouldn't do this."  My whisper dissipated as I pressed harded, breaking in skin.  I finally felt something, pain.  But I also felt a small rush.  I had forgotten the adrenaline rush that came with cutting.  It wasn't much, but it was feeling.

I finished the cut.  One

Another.  Two.

Another, another, another.  Three, four, five.

One more.  Six.

Blood was running down my arm.  Some dropped into the sink, but most pooled on the counter-top.  I felt it.  Finally.  I felt something.

I began to clean and dress the cuts.  I cleaned off the counter, then the blade.  I placed it back in the jewelry box, put the box back on top of the cabinet, and left my en-suite, heading back to my bed.