Between pained gasps for air, I followed Mikey's gaze out to the boy on the bench and the girl approaching him. The boy was shorter than me by at least half of a foot and had long black hair that mimicked my own. His face was pale and sad, anxious, and emotionless all at once. He dressed in blacks and grays with a chain hanging from the side of his jeans. The girl approaching him was the total opposite.

She wore brighter colors, blue jeans, and boots that made me think she belonged to the Deep South somewhere. She walked calmly but quickly at twice the speed of a normal walked. Her hair was short and she brushed it back as she walked. She was pretty and confident. I wondered briefly what a girl like her wanted with this social outcast that fell into my category of "suicidal loser".

I watched her sit beside him on his left and start a conversation. His lips hardly moved when he responded. She smiled softly at a few of his answers; it was a soft, reassuring smile as if she were telling you that everything would be okay eventually. Soon, however, the smile faded into a horrible paleness of fear. I watched her push up her jacket sleeves, and my eyes widened as she offered her wrists to him subtly. She even turned her body so Mikey and I were the only ones with a straight line of vision to the pair. I gripped Mikey's arm as the boy looked at her wrists and shook his head with massive eyes. What good is that gonna do for him? The entire point of cutting to distract yourself with something besides the emotional pain... What good is it for her to even offer? I thought to myself. Nonetheless, I watched the boy stare at his razor and deny the opportunity to cut someone other than himself. She smiled sadly and took his hand into her own so the razor was clasped between the two. She said something softly then hesitated a slight moment before she stood, leaving the razor with him.

I watched her walk to the side, her head down, eyes closed. Her walk had slowed. It was as if her mind were somewhere else. Her lips were moving slightly. She took a deep breath and walked back to her two friends at the side of The Square. I examined her once more as the other two ran pale.

Her palm was bleeding.