18 June 2012
I woke up.
My depressed state was gone. I felt refreshed and ready for my Chorus and French finals.
I lifted up my hand.
And my mouth dropped open.
Dozens of cuts riddled my left wrist.
And the memories of last night came rushing back.
"Oh my gosh," I thought. "My wrist. The blood. His promise. Oh my gosh."
"Hide it," I urged myself. "Just hide it all day."
I got dressed and made up and cursed myself for doing such a thing in the SUMMER, when long sleeved shirts are NOT an option.
I felt sick and dizzy.
"How am I gonna keep this from Mom and Dad?" I asked myself.
The rest of the morning, I made good and sure that my cuts were nowhere in sight.
My dad suspected nothing.
I got to school and took my Chorus final, no problem. I was with my friend Mary [from MWH too]
We had some time to kill before my French final, so we went to the library to hang.
Everything was cool as a cucumber.
I took out my phone and started typing something really quickly, not being careful about my cuts.
And then the sickening words filled my ears.
"Uh...Emily...what happened to your wrist?"
The Broken Promise (P5) • Opuss № I