I watched my hand tremble for a few minutes before my breathing started shaking. My chest hurt. There was a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. My head throbbed. I couldn't wait until I got home or even until I got to the bathroom. I had to do this now. The withdraw was killing me.

I gently took the razor from my pocket and stared at it for awhile. I breathed with a shudder and tried to make sense of what I was about to do. I pulled up my jacket sleeve and looked at my arm. The last cuts were still mostly fresh. Frank Anthony Iero, I swear if you do this on top of those cuts... I let my scolding of myself fade into silence, knowing I couldn't threaten anything I didn't want to happen. I sighed. I looked around again and saw a girl a little older than me walking toward me briskly. I gasped and quickly hid the scars, but I didn't have time to hide the razor.