She wore shorts to school today. She didn’t care who saw the angry red slashes which took up her entire left and right thigh. She was out of control. Her mind was going crazy; telling her to do things that she was starting to consider.
She had sat in the shower trying to stop her arms from shaking and from doing the crazy things. She tried to tell herself that one day things would get better. The next day a friend of hers would stop sitting with her. They would stop wanting to be near her. She knew that her friend had been looking at her legs that day. She knew that the reason she was not sitting with her was because she knew that she was hurting herself. That she was crazy. That she was suicidal. That she was struggling to keep herself alive day after day.
That she hated humans for their lack of humanity. That no one who knew had ever tried to help her. They just try to stay away from her. They just try to pretend that they didn’t see what they know they saw.
She was tired. She was sick of everything. But still she promised to come back and sit underneath the tree tomorrow, as she always did. She knew no one could hear her. She knew that no one was listening. But she wasn’t speaking to be heard. She was speaking for the benefit of the field. The field deserved to have someone speak to it.
The field was always there. She could always count on the field being there for her when everything else went to shit.
There was no human in the world that she could trust like that.