Life In One Day

They kept telling me that it’s a new day. I just can’t find the strength to believe that. It really doesn’t matter though because everyday is the same day. I am actually sitting in advisory waiting for the bell to ring. It’s amazing how long 30 minutes can feel when you’re all alone. I can’t bear it anymore. They don’t understand my need to always be free. They don’t see my reason for running. They don’t know that I have a great need for escaping; not just this life that I feel I’m doomed to live, but this skin that I’ve been placed in. That’s why I’m going to have to ask to go to the bathroom. I might not be able to leave these prison walls until 2 in the afternoon, but I sure know how to get out of my cell for a few minutes.
“Mr. Young, can I go to the bathroom?”
“Yeah, but be back before the bell rings or I’m gonna mark you down as cutting.”
“Ok, I’ll be back by then.” He is so uptight. I don’t really like him that much. He is always getting on my nerves. First of all it’s only advisory. All we do is sit around and meditate on the fact that life sucks while he advises us that everyone else in the room lives this same miserable, seemingly endless life. Secondly, I know he didn’t just say he was going to mark me as cutting. He wants to talk about cutting! Oh I’ll show him cutting. I know that within the confines of my pocket lies a consolation. Within my possession is an object of relaxation. It’s pretty difficult for most to understand that there’s comfort in a blade.
Just look at them. They all sit among each other with faces that hold smiles that are hardly even real. They are all so busy trying to be the person they think the others want them to be that they don’t even realize how perfect they’d all fit together if they would just be themselves.
I’m surprised that there’s no one in the bathroom. I guess no one feels like using their cell phones to talk to friends that they’re going to more than likely see in a few minutes, or even getting high so that they’ll be able to cope with the trials that are yet to come today. It’s too bad for them. But, I plan on coping today. I plan on doing what I need to do in order to get through another day with whatever meager sanity I still have left. It’s too bad that I have to cope in silence.
It’s so small and shiny. Its cold exterior against my skin feels so familiar. This pain is such a release. I feel so real. This crimson color is so unique. It’s hard not to admire such beauty. The blood running down my arm feels so foreign. It’s just so cold against my warm skin. That’s what happens when tears can no longer flow from your eyes. I need to make more cuts. I need to see more blood. I need to feel again. Look what you’ve done to me.
Another short walk back to my cell. As I walk I scratch the cuts that I’ve just made. The pain is so nurturing. I don’t know how anyone can possibly stand to live without such a solace.
“It took you 15 minutes to use the bathroom?”
“Yeah, and?”
“You do this everyday. You ask to go to the bathroom and then come back half way through advisory after doing who knows what”
“Actually, I know what.”
“Are you getting smart with me?”
“Of course not!”
“Why do you do this everyday?”
“I don’t do it everyday”
“You did it today, yesterday, the day before and the day before that!”
“But it’s all the same day Mr. Young. It’s still the same day. If that’s the way you wanna have it, then all my life I’ve been living in the past because what seems like a new day to you is always yesterday for me!”