Only Words Bleed

Struggles You Never Knew

Violet's Pov:

I was at it again. Out in the garage looking for another object, except this time it wasn't for my benefit.

It was getting darker and darker as the sun set. Just a few rays left over the horizon to give me the light outside. But it wasn't enough for the inside of the building.

Not wanting anyone to know what I was doing, I kept the lights off and pulled out my flashlight that I kept under my pillow. Then I began my search.

I looked in each drawer and cabinet. "Screwdriver, no. Hammer, no. Wrench, no. Pliers, no." I can't seem to find what I'm looking for so I start searching for another option.

I get on my hands and knees and start looking around the floor. I pull out a crate that has some odds and ends in there. I find some rusty nails which are close, but not what I was looking for.

I'm starting to get frustrated and I grit my teeth and let out a long sigh. My grip on my flashlight tightens and I dig my nails into my hand. But it's not enough of a relief. I need more.

I need to cut.

I shine the flashlight across the cement floor one more time and out of the corner of my eye, I see a slight glint in the corner. I rush over and I find what I've been looking for.

Glass.

Laying on the floor is a broken piece of glass from the door of an old cabinet that's a couple of inches long. It's not big but it's enough.

I roll up my sleeve to reveal my scarred arm. I set the flashlight down and pick up the piece of glass. I lift it up and stare at it in the light and I can see my breath billow out in white puffs as I take in shaky breaths. It has a sharp point at the end which is perfect.

I take in a deep breath before I touch the point to my skin. Then all of a sudden I drag the shard down swiftly. It leaves a white mark but no blood shows. I hadn't done it hard enough.

This time I go in for the blow and I stab the glass into my arm. I tense at the pain, but after the sudden shock, it starts to feel good. And I drag it down my arm again. A thin stream of blood starts to appear and I feel satisfied. So I do it again and again and again.

Blood streaks, like claw marks, coat my arm. Just like when my dad had thrown glass at me. But this time I don't feel the pain. It's soothing to me as I rake the shard down my arm. The glass is now coated in red and I drop it on the ground. My arm is now bleeding profusely and I grasp it with my other hand trying to stop the blood flow. But my hand comes away slick with blood.

I start to panic as I realize that my arm is totally red. I'd only meant to cut a little, but the sensation had felt so good.

It had been another terrible night, filled with nightmares about my father. I'd been stressed all day and everything had only made it worse. No one understood and my friends didn't help. So I was left with only one choice. Self-harm.

Thought I'd found a way. Thought I'd found a way out. But it never goes away. So I guess it's gonna stay now. Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here. Even if it takes all night or a hundred years. I needed a place to hide from it all but couldn't find one near. I hate that I had to resort to this.

Now I was faced with a situation. I didn't want to get caught by my mom with my arm all bloody. I didn't want her to know I had done self-harm. So I was left with one choice.

I slid my hoodie sleeve back down and then applied pressure to my arm. The shirt fabric soaked up the blood and left dark red stains across my arm. But it was slowing the bleeding which was good. Next, I turned off the flashlight and stand up. Then I carefully exit the garage.