And that stinging feeling after the blade has crossed her wrist,
bleeding, with bracelets up and down her arm is what makes her feel better.
You did this to her, and there is nothing you can do to fix the scars she has.
You can know all her secrets, but you can't lie. Not to her.
This is what happens when you lie to her.
She cuts herself.
Deep.
And it's your fault.
Don't feel guilty.
She wouldn't want you to.
She just wanted it to work out for once,
or at least get an explanation.
Too bad that didn't happen.
And now look at where she is.
In her room,
the door locked,
tissues everywhere,
mascara on her face and stained on her pillow,
her arm is bright red, and the blood dripping down her arm,
stinging,
and you don't even know it.
Sure, you know she does it,
but you would never have realized why she does it.
You would never even dare to think that you were the reason.
And now,
her last few days of being an eighth grader,
and her first few as a freshman,
have been ruined.
Her eighth grade dance was not fun because she found out you lied to her.
Then you texted her saying your friendship is over.
All she wanted was a chance,
and you wanted it too,
but you blew it dude.
You really blew it.