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Description
I am in an old dusty house with my family and some kids from school
I have to use the bathroom, but there are too many windows in the room
And they are large with no curtains
There are some curtains down the hall, my father tells me
I can only see him from a distance, but he's facing me with a weird expression on his face,
Like he feels afraid of something
I walk down the hall and turn left into the kitchen
A lot of kids are there, and a boy named Alex is sitting on a stool facing the counter
I walk over beside him and open a drawer
In it there are many knives, but no forks or spoons
I take out a large knife and play with the idea of cutting my finger open
I always think of this when I'm holding a large knife
Carefully, I bring it down to my left wrist
Alex smirks at me
He knows what I'm thinking, what I'm toying with
He knows that I want to cut myself; that I am curious of what will happen
Do it, he says. It won't kill you
I quickly cut my wrist, not too deep, but I can see dark red blood
It's not bleeding, only resting there
It almost looks too dry to bleed
I cut my right wrist
The same thing happens
The kids are laughing at me
I walk around the rest of the house,
Holding the skin together so that I won't fall apart all together and bleed to death
It feels like my skin is trying to peel back away from my entire body
There are no curtains in the house
Somebody lied

Description
I am in an old dusty house with my family and some kids from school
I have to use the bathroom, but there are too many windows in the room
And they are large with no curtains
There are some curtains down the hall, my father tells me
I can only see him from a distance, but he's facing me with a weird expression on his face,
Like he feels afraid of something
I walk down the hall and turn left into the kitchen
A lot of kids are there, and a boy named Alex is sitting on a stool facing the counter
I walk over beside him and open a drawer
In it there are many knives, but no forks or spoons
I take out a large knife and play with the idea of cutting my finger open
I always think of this when I'm holding a large knife
Carefully, I bring it down to my left wrist
Alex smirks at me
He knows what I'm thinking, what I'm toying with
He knows that I want to cut myself; that I am curious of what will happen
Do it, he says. It won't kill you
I quickly cut my wrist, not too deep, but I can see dark red blood
It's not bleeding, only resting there
It almost looks too dry to bleed
I cut my right wrist
The same thing happens
The kids are laughing at me
I walk around the rest of the house,
Holding the skin together so that I won't fall apart all together and bleed to death
It feels like my skin is trying to peel back away from my entire body
There are no curtains in the house
Somebody lied