Ebony Violet Black sat by the window. She slowly ran her fingers over the many scars on her wrists and hands, remembering the reason for each individual cut. One, when Seth died; one, when her parents abandoned her; one, when her sister left her side... the list went on and on. She had lost count quite a while ago. Now, it seemed, she did it for no reason at all. She had come to like the pain, almost enjoy it. After all, she thought, feeling pain and sadness is better than feeling nothing at all, right?

    Sighing, she pulled out her favorite pocket knife. Fingering the blade, she practiced a trick or two, throwing the knife up in the air and catching it in her teeth, behind her back, with her eyes closed. Finally, she said out loud, to nobody in particular, "What the hell am I doing?! I should be having fun!"

    And so she then took the knife to her wrist. She felt the coolness of the blade, the sharp pain as the cut was made, the warm blood as it flowed freely from her open wound. "Mmmm..." she sighed, and smiled. It felt good. No, better than good. It felt... great. So great in fact, she felt she had to go on. Never ending pain, blood, relief.

    She made another cut in her wrist, deeper than the one before. Then, another. And another. Gasping with surprise and excitement, she sliced her wrist again and again with the blade. Soon, there was no distinction between each individual cut. On the ground was a red puddle, slowly expanding with every slice of the knife.

    Suddenly, Ebony began to feel very dizzy and lightheaded. Her hand began shaking, and the knife fell to the ground beside her feet. She tried to stand up, but swayed and fell to the ground. Her breathing was shallow, and she could not think. She lay there on the ground, barely able to move. Her vision went fuzzy, and then black. Her last thought before she passed out on the cold forest ground was, What have I done...