pair of scissors in my pocket, which i used to cut the top of my left arm. it just felt right to do it. i was in pain, it did hurt, but it was an escape from the true pain i had buried away inside me. there was just something about seeing my own blood drip from my arm; it reminded me that i am alive, that i am not empty inside. ever since this powerful experience i started cutting more regularly. it reminds me i am alive. of course, it was my secret, so i had to make sure i could never be found out. i cut in places 