And then sadness filled up her veins again.She just let her gaze fall on her wrist. It was completely involuntary. Whenever she got sad , she’d start looking at her wrist. The wrist with scars. She knew exactly where each of her faded scar was. When she looked at her wrist, it was so clear for her. Those cuts and scars which have now been erased, somehow she can see them faintly. It leaves her wanting for more. Wanting new ones just above the old ones. At times she would hold the blade on her skin but drop it the next second and break down in tears. It took everything in her to stop herself. Somehow self-harming made it all too easy for her. She had something to remove her anger on and not fear losing it. Later after doing it, the pain kept her busy. The next day hiding those with makeup and accessories was her only tension. She didn’t want to let the world see – how sad she had become. How she lost all her hope and clung to something that ended up hurting her every time. So she hid it away as if it wasn’t even a thing. All her thoughts and all her feelings. Life was easy with a blade, a little easier. But she knew how things would end up if she did it again. So she would start tracing circles on her wrist with her thumb and take deep breaths. She would cry in frustration but hold back. But she wasn’t as strong to do it forever. What made her worry was, what if she starts it again!? Coz then there is no going back.