I open my nightstand drawer and stare down out the prescription bottle, twisting the ring on my finger, knowing that any more pills will send me into blackout mode. But I want to be in that mode right now because it momentarily makes me feel happy and content. I pick up the bottle and open it. As the pills slide down my throat, numbness slides through my body and I fall back on the bed with my hand placed on the scar along my stomach, my one flaw, both inside and outside.


I’m not sure how boarding school is going, whether I like it or hate it. It seems weird living at a school at fourteen years old. Plus, I’m having a hard time making friends. But I’m trying.