Slowly and carefully I caressed my pale wrist with a knife, as my self conscious taunted me. The same image circulated though my mind, but this time it was drawn out so that I could see her disgust as she saw my scars. She didn't believe that it was her fault, despite the fact that she was the beginning of all my agony. And why should it be her fault? I was the one who would never deserve loving parents or a good life. I wasn't worth it. I wasn't enough. I laid the knife against my wrist and began to cut, but I was interrupted by the creaking of a door being opened. "Tessa?"
9 parts