Change

Something new was coming.

She could feel it in herself, she could see it on the calendar, she kept watching the sky turn dark and light again.

She was shaky.

She spent the days strong– she bought books, she wrote down important dates, she went to doctor's appointments.

Night was a different story.

When the sky turned dark and a blanket of shadow descended on her room, she felt sad and alone, and would take out her pair of scissors and slit her thighs.

She would let salty tears fall down her cheek onto bloody tears on her thigh.

She would watch the liquids mix, she would let them run to the bedsheet and sink into the fabric.

Then she would fall asleep.

The scissors would find their way back to their drawer in her nightstand.

And the next morning, she would find her strength again.