diary entry a while back:

Im bored. It’s boring. Life bores me. Im sitting there, next to her, a distant look in my eyes. Her own eyes dart around the room. Shes nervous, even me in my half woken state can see that. I itch my covered arms. No one else can see us. Its relieving, but dangerous. She looks to me, I look to the wall. Ignorance is now divine. She nudges me, I scratch my cheek, my eyes now focused on the ceiling above.

“Cara”

She whispers. One word. One syllable. One person. Me.

Does she actually expect me to give her a descent response?

“Psst, Cara.”

Yes, yes I heard you the first time; “Hmm?”

She picks up my right arm, disapproval haunts her pretty glowing eyes. She takes in a breath to fuel her next rant about self harmers. As she does she leans on my left arm. I exhale one sharp breath. Both her eyes look to me with one predictable outcome. She lifts my left arm and pulls down the sleeve. I do not deny. I do not flinch. I don’t make a move or even a sound. Her lower lip, she pushes out, to form a tantrum style pout. A chair scrapes across the floorboards. Someone has stood up. She does not drop my arms, but she lowers them slightly. Nervous eyes on nervous face scan the room. There is no one noticing her little disagreement with me. She puts down my arms. I prepare for the speech. I am profoundly suprised, a rarity when it comes to dealing with this one erratic child.

"Stop Hurting Yourself."

Then she stood, causing the chair to slide in an ear deafening screech. She walks, turns back, kisses me on the forehead. She lifts my right arm, takes my hand, and shakes it. As though shes wishing me luck.

Her strides seem bigger than her legs as she crosses the boards. In seconds she is out of the door. I stare at her chair. Partly in anger. Partly in annoyance. Mostly because Im wishing her back next to me. My foot continuously taps the ground in anxiousness.

Stop hurting myself...? Yeah. Because its just that easy.