Invisible

[Curious Mylo]

Today is the day. (Paces nervously) No! (Hits herself on the head) Stop Lauren Stop! Nothing bad will happen. No reason to be so nervous. (Getting more unsure every word) No reason… at all. He’ll still love me after I tell him. He’ll love me still… I know he will… I hope. (falls onto the couch) It’s not like I’m gunna go off and kill myself. Life is too much fun. There are too many people that I care about. I couldn’t do that to them. (To the audience) You’re all gunna call my psycho now. Right? Without the sugar coating I… (Pause) I… (Closes her eyes and says it fast) am a cutter. There! I said it! I am a cutter. I cut my wrists. Blades, blood. Yeah. The whole deal. But you don’t understand. I’m not the kind of cutter that hates the world and wants to die. I’m the kind that (long pause) needs to know that I’m really here. When she walks by and looks right through me, it hurts. We used to be best friends. It gets me thinking that maybe I’m invisible. Not only to her, but to the whole world. What if I’m not really here? Sounds dumb, but it really feels that way. But… seeing the blood shows that I’m alive. For those few minutes you feel that no one can hurt you.

One time… I cut too deep. The two people that knew told me to stop. “What if you accidentally go too far?” I don’t want to lose you. You’re too important to me. I’m not going to lose you to something like this.” Their words echoed through my head all night. Normally, it stops bleeding after a few minutes. But hours later, it was still bleeding. Even when I went to bed, I couldn’t get it to stop. I was so terrified I would go to sleep and never wake up. Or… wake up dead. I’d end up watching everything my death would cause. I only slept a few minutes that night. I was too scared to sleep more than that.

Even after I was scared that badly, I still can’t stop. It’s gotten to where it’s a part of my daily routine. I just… can’t stop.

But it scares me the most to think that if I do… yeah… it would hurt him. When I felt the worst ever he walked to my house at 3:30 in the morning to bring be a bag of cookies.

He kind of… doesn’t know. He’s never seen the cuts or found the blades or any of it. But I feel like I’m lying to him. I can’t do that. I can’t hide it anymore. The two people who knew think I stopped a long time ago. I have to tell him. If he finds out before I tell him… bad bad bad. Very very bad bad bad.

I’m scared. I’m scared that no matter what I do he’ll hate me. Unless I stop. But I can’t. Not for him. Not for anyone. Anyone but me. And I’m not ready to stop yet. I need something to be able to count on. One thing that can prove I’m really here. That you aren’t all staring mindlessly at an empty stage.