Blood dripped from the several cuts, she had made with the blade on her hand. No, it wasn’t paining enough. She took the deodorant from the shelf and sprayed it over the cuts. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as the cuts stung bad. Her heart felt satisfied. She had hurt the people, who loved her. She had disappointed the people, who believed her. So she was getting the punishment, she deserved. Oh no! The pain was subsiding. She needed to do something to keep the pain alive.

 

She picked up the blade and cut herself, some more. It pained and she felt happy. This pain was capable of calming the storm raging in her mind. She couldn’t let it die. It helped her survive the storm in her mind. Otherwise, she would have gone crazy. She took some salt from the bottle on the table and rubbed it on her wounds. Her eyes watered as the wounds burned. She felt pleased. As she was getting the pain, she caused others. She noticed a bottle of chilli powder on the table and poured it over her wounds. An involuntary scream left her mouth and she doubled up with pain. She curled up on the floor. The pain was beyond her tolerance. But, she felt ecstatic. She was causing herself all the agony, before others could. And she won’t give others the chance to cause her pain.

 


She was ashamed to show what she did to herself, but, not brave enough to leave doing it. Hiding the wounds beneath long sleeves, she roamed about a jolly confident extrovert, with her insecurities and fears threatening to come out, every moment. All the time, a plea to save her, remained suppressed between her lips.
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