“Can Isabelle Jameson report to the principal’s office? Isabelle Jameson.” My classmates turn to stare as my name crackles over the loudspeaker.
I get out of my seat and head down the hallway. The people lingering in the hall stare at me as well.
I step into the threshold of the tiny office. Warm air floats around me as the secretary looks up. “Hello, Isabelle.”
She clicks some keys on her computer. “Mrs. Kelly wants to see you.”
“Okay…” Confused, I go across the hall and tap on her door.
“Come in!” Mrs. Kelly calls from inside.
I walk into the room and sit on the freezing leather couch. “Hi, Isabelle.”
“Hey.” I respond. I don’t know why I’m here.
“How are you?”
“Good. I guess,” I shrug.
“How are things at home, Isabelle?” She cuts right to it.
“Uh, pretty good.” I lie.
The counsellor smiles at me warmly which causes the frown lines in her skin to show. Her wispy hair just barely reaches her shoulders.
“I guess you want to know why you’re here, don’t you?” She smiles.
“Yeah, kind of.” I reply mechanically.
“I’d just like to have a discussion with you.” She smiles again.
Why is she so happy? What is she trying to get me to admit? Is she trying to pry me open so that all my deep, dark secrets are revealed?
Like that’ll happen easily.
“I don’t have anything for discussion today, but I will schedule an appointment with you in the future.” She opens a black leather book and records some information.
I get up and stride towards the door.
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Trapped in my room, my mind spins. I replay events from the day until I start to feel faint.
My heart races and sweat beads on my palm. I run my hands through my hair and reach for the paper clip on my desk.
I expose the pointed end and let lines etch my wrist. Blood slips down my hand and pain shoots through my arm.
Bursts of pleasure follow the pain and I smile widely because I’ve found a new way of dealing with the darkness in my life.
