Salvation Through Sufference

• Kaitlyn Woods, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2010

The straight lines that covered her thighs shone dully in the fluorescent bathroom light. They varied in appearance with some dark red in healing and others white with age.
The small window was open and the frame was painted in crumbling white flakes. The breeze carried a chill and came willingly to steal the warmth from the air. The view from the window was blocked out by the false light and all that was let through was a starless black.
She cried without tears, her body shuddering with enormous gasps for sweet oxygen and her face contorted with such agony it became animalistic.
Her arms were wrapped around her bare knees in a pathetic attempt to comfort herself. Her mascara ran under her eyes like shadows, making her look hollow.
Slowly, she was able to calm down and untangle her limbs enough to reach for a silver razor, rusted with blood.
Yet, as she held the blade to her pale skin, a realisation dawned on her. This was not the existence she had envisioned for herself. Although she had become accustomed to her suffering and its comfortable routine, she wanted difference. She wanted to smile without any protest from within and she wanted to feel emotions other than pitiful sadness.
The girl lowered her instrument of torture and stood from the tiled floor, wrapping a robe tight across her chest with crossed arms.
With shaking knees and weak legs, she flicked the light switch, leaving her in complete darkness. The stars shone through the black as if they were pinpricks through paper against a window.
Creeping back to her empty bed, she lay her head against her pillow, closed her eyes, and waited for the new day.