Tears stream from dark eyes, 
Falling like a coursing river down cheeks. She brings out her pencil case and rummages through. A compass, silver and glinting. She draws the point across her forearm again and again. The pain makes her feel good. She watches her skin be scratched and torn and gives a weak smile. Pain is good, she thinks. A tear again rolls down her cheek and splashes into her lap. She knows she needs to stop but the hurt has consumed. Once you're in, it's hard to get out. She can't take anymore. The looks and the words and the pain, she needs it to end so she sneaks into the kitchen and gets the knife. One cut and it could all go. One cut to end the pain.

Little does she know that they are crying too, crying for her suffering. She's hurting them more than she realises and they just need her to stay strong. They're tears of sorrow cannot be seen by her but maybe if they were, she would stop.