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To an outsider, it would’ve been a harmless gift. Even the staff wasn’t clever enough to make
it out as a cutter’s angel, allowing Beth’s parents to supply the disguised contraband to their
carved up daughter. It’s not like they had any nasty intent either. They just lacked the
imagination of those with malnourished desires. And deprived of the blade’s tranquil kiss (its
papal toxin), Beth was able to sense sharp contours in the most innocent looking materials.
Bliss was found in the bathroom, masturbation for the skin with the assistance of a plastic
hooker. The Tic Tacs were Wintergreen in their flavor (though Beth would never come to discover
so). It was the boat they traveled in, that plastic case. What a clear, synthetic gem of a
priceless category. Smashing it open proved to be a more difficult task than expected, but
within a few pounds, the case cracked into segments, as if her arms were looking at a duplicate
of themselves.
Arms. Fuck, I can’t. Too risky, they’ll be visible. Staff would see them all too easily.
Beth’s legs served as the stage where the red flapper dancers showcased with unrivaled glitz
for an audience of heaven’s elite. The canine edge of the plastic wasn’t a prime employee for
the job, and the skin’s fortification held quite well. But after a little bit of effort, it
became visible and audible: Red sprouting from the wound, roses without thorns, their sweet
pollen voices summoning a soul revival like a personal April sunshine. Past pains, present
predicaments, and future fears all evaporated in this reconciliation of spirits. No longer was
she in Harsam. She was a nymph, naked, glittering skin shimmering in the great outdoor sun,
lounging on a hammock made of Jason’s Golden Fleece, while pampered and serviced by even the
most egotistical Gods. Completely overshadowing therapy, this was the final solution to create
the holocaust of her brain’s belligerent aggressors.
Before long, a steady stream was running down her leg. With reality now drowned, she sailed
away on its current.
© Derek M
Excerpts from an abandoned story of mine (well, I haven’t abandoned it completely, but I know
I’ll never finish it). The story takes place in the adolescent unit of a mental hospital called
Harsam and is seen from all patient points of view (there is no one main character the story
centers around). All characters in the story are based on actual people I met in the hospital
(names of patients and the hospital itself have been changed of course), and the events
surrounding them. The following describes a cutting session performed by Beth in the hospital’s
confines.
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