It's Nothing

It’s Nothing
By
xXx MissHaunted-MoonLight xXx

Summary: I let my rebellious side take control. The wound may be deep, but it's still nothing.
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It's Nothing


The wound is deep.

Stinging, maiming,
Burning my inhibitions sky-high
As silver blade pierces white skin.

Scarlet lifeblood, dripping like water,
Droplet after droplet,
Always falling.
Never ceasing its endless voyage down my left arm.

Why cut the right?
Cutting left-handed is restricting.

So I settle for cutting right-handed
And slice open my left arm
Where the blade will reach.
Where it will cut into the skin deep.

For cutting the left is child’s-play.

The knife falls fast and the pain vanishes,
Replaced by a tolerable sting.

And I watch as
Scarlet lifeblood drips like water,
Droplet after droplet,
Always falling.

Minutes pass by and
There’s a screech of brakes.
Mum and Dad have returned with the midget.

Damn.

With haste the blade is wiped clean
And replaced in the knife-stand as
The door handle turns.

Sister is crying
And father is fuming
While mother is gravely silent.

Nothing new there.

I cradle my left arm slightly,
Then catch myself and hastily tug my sleeve down,
Willing my right hand
To release
Its death grip
On the bleeding wound.

They don’t need to see.
Only I need to see.

My little secret.

But eagle-eyes has noticed.
And being the younger sibling, she squeals.

Oh,
Would that I were younger.
Young ones squeal and it’s called
‘The Right Thing’.

Like hell
It’s the right thing
These days.

“What’s that?” Mum asks,
Suspicion rich and piercing,
The words slicing into
My very soul
Harsher than the blade could have done.

Dad is scowling and
Sister is smirking
That victorious smirk of hers,
Tears miraculously
Gone from view.

Midget.

I could squash her
If I wanted to.

But I don’t.

Instead I smile
My own winning smile,
The puppy-dog look that
Catches all adults
Off guard.

Even at seize ans*
They still
Fall for it.

Retreating from the kitchen with
One final glance at
The knife,
From where it smiles
Up at me alongside its fellow gleaming slicers,

I let my
Rebellious side
Take control.

“It’s nothing.”


* ‘seize ans’ - French for sixteen years.