As I submerged my ninety nine pound body into the steaming water, I grabbed he blade from my special hiding place. The boiling heat from the water instantly started making me sweat, but I didn't care, I was losing water weight. The blade was fresh and new. And sharp. I had to be careful this time
One shallow one for the small fry I shared with Nina earlier that day. On the wrist. One on my hip for binging after lunch. And the last one on my other wrist, a little deeper than the first. For my worth.
What was I worth? Nothing. Nothing but my weight. My weight was my life. But I wasn't perfect just yet.
I wasn't ninety pounds. I was one pound from one hundred. Pitiful. I laid back in the tub, letting the water engulf me. Letting the water lick at my wounds and sting me.
It was a familiar sting. I felt at home. I could hear the beat of my heart. I listened. I listened to my breathing.
The air filling my unworthy lungs. The water lapping against my unworthy face. The thuds of my unworthy heart. I listened to my unworthy existence.
Just once more, but this time, two cuts. To make an x. I would be perfect. I would make it to ninety. I would do whatever it takes to be worthy.