Secret Identity

Lonely, she sits,
Quiet as a mouse, except for her gentle sobs.
Slowly, so slowly,
She picks up the knife.
Has it come to this?
She’s lasted so long, Little Girl Blue.
She made it so long, without giving in to temptation,
But, tonight, all alone, the forbidden seems all-too alluring.
She takes in a deep breath as the dull blade is placed against soft skin.
Slowly, Little Girl Blue adds pressure.
The blade, biting into flesh, cold and foreign makes her heart jump.
She thinks of excuses first; “A cat scratch”, “A shaving knick”.
All too unbelievable.
Should she do it? What is there to gain?
Nothing.
Guilt, embarrassment, even more sorrow.
What is there to lose?
Everything.
The risk is too great.
But, then again, so is the urge to bleed.
The only thought that can save her, from the knife and from herself, is;
“What would they think?”
What, indeed.
What would he say, if he knew? If he found out she gave up, gave in, so easily?
And the day after his birthday? Some “sweet sixteen” that would be.
No.
She won’t give in. Not tonight.
Little Girl Blue will turn her back on the knife, and instead wield the pen.
Little Girl Blue won’t give up tonight, no matter how much it hurts.
I won’t give up.
Tonight, I found out that, sometimes, Little Girl Blue…
is me.