i sit down on the bench and remember the first time i cut myself. i remember the way the air went straight thru me as i cried. i didn't deserve to be treated like that. i picked the glass up that was laying on the ground and pressed it to palm. i remember watching trickles of blood flow down my forearm. i remember the instant relief that i felt, how it felt like nothing could hurt me anymore now that i was doing it my self. i look to my left and see christofer and remember how he stumbled upon a hot mess, cutting herself and how even though he didn't know me, he held me, telling me to stop. he walked me home, told my mom everything and gave me his number. now that i look back, i see everything i gained and how stupid i was to do that. christofer grabs my scared palm and we walk home.