And here is my story in 360 words or less.
In the silence I stare into the mirror. It screams back at me words I can not bare to whisper aloud myself. Faults and mistakes, imperfections smeared across reflection, reflecting the part of me that should just bite the bullet...literally.
My fingers touch the part that my eyes refuse to look at, each scar a perfect line, exactly a centimeter above the last. They each tell me what I need to hear as each finger caresses the line.
"For that time she called you pig in front of everyone", caress.
"For that time he told you he never loved you", caress.
"For the time no one cared to see if you were ok", caress
"For the time you just couldn't figure out how to go on without us", Hold.
I force my eyes down, stare at the lines and don't look away. In the silence of my mirror I can finally find the voice I gave up so long ago.
"Mom," I scream, needing to be heard. "Mom", I scream, even though I hear her steps, slamming against the stairs, not use to hearing my voice, the voice that the mirror had taken. I remain undressed as she throws open the door.
She stares, first at me and then at my lines. Created to protect me against the pain I sought to control.
"Mom, I want help." I place the sharp edge in her hand and my skin brushes against hers, the first contact I made in months.
"I don't want this anymore. I want to stop."
"This was the last time I swear."
It's the lines whispering now, angered that I am leaving them behind. But they are so much easier to tune out when the mirror is smiling back.