Chapter One-Living in the Past, Razorblades.

In order to fill you in on the present, I have to go back and fill you in on my past. Are you ready to travel back in time to about a year ago?

It was a night in December of 2008. don't remember the exact date. It was a chilly day for Florida, and I was cold. Not just on the outside, but on the inside too. A month and a half before, my older step brother committed suicide. His death launched me into great depression. I stopped smiling, I stopped eating, I stopped sleeping, but I never stopped crying.

My friends tried to understand me. I didn't believe they could, so I pushed them away. Everywhere I went I was reminded of him. The nights I did sleep, I was haunted with nightmares. I was mad at the world and even madder at God. I pushed him away too. Then I began to feel really alone.

Slowly I started recovering. I realized I needed my friends if I was going to get through this. I opened up to a few of them. They didn't understand what I was going through, but that didn't mean they couldn't listen. Everything started looking up again.

Mike's favorite football team, The Steelers, won the superbowl. I was so happy. He must've been cheering and rooting from heaven. That night I completely broke down. I texted people who swore they would always be there for me, no one answered. I felt empty. I felt alone. I felt numb. I wanted this feeling to go away, but it wouldn't.

Everything blurred. Now I was sitting in my bathroom holding a razor. I slashed my left shoulder over and over again. I couldn't stop. I was bleeding. The feeling of numbness and pain disappeared. A feeling of excitement and pleasure arose. I cleaned the razor. And I went to bed smiling, for the first time since Mike's death.

It was my special, secret way of making the pain stop. The pain only stayed away as long as the cuts were there. Once they healed up the pain came back and it was time to cut again. I wasn't emo..I certianly wasn't in any danger..It was just a couple of scratches on my shoulder.