"Dawn" she said softly. Her voice was harsh, broken. It spoke of abuse and hardship, of pain and rust. It was the voice of someone who has lost many things in their life, and is trying so very hard to pull themselves away from all of it but failing in the worst way possible. It was the voice of someone who you couldn't help because you couldn't talk to them, couldn't know them. All of this in one single word. 

"What?" asked Sara, almost embarassedly. Her voice was nowhere near that and she felt ashamed to reveal it. Her voice was soft, beautiful, and melodic, even with the recent trauma. She also was scared of this girl, as she hadn't been scared from anyone in her entire life. The similarity between this girl and herself ten years ago was shocking. If you took away the voice, it was exact. She didn't want this to be apparent, didn't want it to be out there. The idea of it made her feel vulnerable and insignificant, invalidated her ideas and thoughts. It hurt.

"I'm Dawn," the girl said, and Sara flinched at her voice. "You?" It was very informal, no hello or how are you. Just a question. The way Sara would have said it. 

"Sara," she said, and the girl nodded slowly. The girl in the opposite bed was extremely pretty, in a dark sort of way. Short black hair, a few piercings. Fair skin, deep eyes that looked like stormclouds. She shook when she moved, just a little shiver. Sara wondered why.

"Why're you here?" the girl asked. Again it was very informal and very blunt. The extra formalities that occupied normal conversation were not necessary, Dawn was simply awknowledging that both of the participants were smarter than to need that. There was no worry of insulting Sara, and this, in an odd way, felt respectful. No bullshit. However, the answer to the question was a bit troubling. She couldn't say trauma, because Dawn would ask her what happened and she couldn't talk on that. It was away, dormant for now. She thought for some excuse, and then noticed her arm for the first time. Her right arm was in a blue cast. She gestured with it, and Dawn nodded again.

Without Sara asking, Dawn rolled over towards her and turned her wrists up towards Sara. Two red lines snaked up Dawn's arms, twisting up her forearm and ending just before the elbow. Stitches lined the cuts, pulling the skin on either side together. It was horrifying, but Sara didn't flinch. She only let out a small noise. "Oh." Dawn nodded a final time and rolled back over. No insult, no bullshit. Just information. Sara lay back into her bed and thought about the exchange. It felt as though it ended decently, even with the pain. She closed her eyes and wondered why the girl in the bed next to her had tryed to kill herself. 

The End

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