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She steps onto the cold tile floor and pads across the small room. She sits on the plush window seat and examines her surroundings – a small metal bed, a tall enclosed shower, and a plastic chair. The only window in the room is covered in thick plastic.
The room is suicide-proof. She realizes. The room itself scares her because she’s claustrophobic, but what terrifies her is the reason why she’s in the room. She’s a cutter. Visions of razorblades, scratches and screaming fill her head. Razorblades are what got her in the mental-health facility in the first place – she cut too deep and she was found by her mother; bleeding and near death.
She was caged in the facility in less than three days.
A nurse comes into the room and examines the girl before lifting her sleeve. There are no fresh cuts on the girl’s arm so the nurse doesn’t have to worry about putting anything new in the girl’s file – not yet anyway.
The nurse leaves the room. The girl sighs in relief before reaching underneath the window seat. She comes up with a small, wooden box that is closed by a thick metal lock. She clicks it open with a key that she keeps hidden in her pillow. As she unlocks the box, her breathing tightens – she can already feel the razor’s sharp edges.
She takes the razor from the box and presses it to her wrist. Pain shoots through her arm and she smiles. The vicious cycle starts again.
