When we were wintergirls

I gave her blood

Every day before school.
That was her schedule.
She smoked. Every. Day. Before. School.
When she was high, she wasn't Katelyn.
She was a fucking bitch.
She pushed me away, laughed at my pain, and poked my weaknesses with a ten-foot pole.
Hand-in-hand with the devil she giggled and flirted her way to my funeral where she gladly buried me with a silver shovel.
The last thing I saw was her dead eyes and cold smile.
I told myself that she didn't know what she was doing to me.
I was lying to myself, of course. I did that a lot in her name.
On the days when she was especially bitchy, she would ignore me all day. If I tried to talk to her while she was with her "cool" friends, she just gave me this look. No one had ever looked at me like that, and nothing could quite make me feel so fucking worthless as that. She looked at me like I was a disgusting bug that she was trying to burn with her eyes. It said
"Go away you disgusting whore, you're going to infect me."
I started bringing blades to school specifically for those days. I'd disappear into the bathroom and bleed until the pain went away. It felt like she was the one holding the blade, grinning as I bled more and more, whispering.
Yes. You can do this. Blood is good, bleeding will make you strong/make you better/make you pay. Don't be WEAK.
Her ghost followed me everywhere I went. Torturing me. Whispers of secrets and reminding me to say strong.
I was too fat for her. Too ugly. Too weak. Too stupid/pathetic/disgusting/wrong.
Fuck.
She ruined me.
And I will never be the same.
Katelyn, you beautiful lie, you perfect pain. You were my superman and the little devil on my shoulder. You were the one holding the knife.
And you were the one holding my hand.
Your blood is on my hands and mine is on yours.
Blood sisters.
Red drops sizzling in the fresh.
New.
Snow.
Baby,
You should have killed me when you had the chance.