"Truth or dare?" Her voice seemed extra loud against the contrasting, perfectly silent backround filled with our unspoken words and not yet voiced conversations.
I smiled. It was OUR game. I looked up into her eyes, clear pupils of crystal-like blue, and whispered "Truth."
Rolling her eyes, Sammy mumbled "Should have known."
Sam was my best friend, and I could trust her with anything... except a dare. We could be ridiculously cruel to each other during the rare occasion one of us chose dare.
"Okay...," Sam bit her lip. She then put on her poker face. This meant she had thought of a question. "If Zander asked you back out, what would you say?"
Same noticed my hesitation, and her eyes immediatly widened.
"Oh my god!" she practically screamed. It was enough to hurt my ears. "No way! Oh my god! BRITTANY!"
"I didn't even say anything!" I half-shouted, feeling my face flush a cover-blowing shade of crimson.
Knitting her light eyebrows together-- making them turn invisible on her pale, pale face-- and crossing her arms, she looked me up and down, examining my face while letting a soft "Mhm," escape her down-turned lips.
"Okay, fine!" I spit out, knowing that my complextion continued to deepen its embarassed shade of red.
"I knew it! Oh my god, I SO knew it!" Sam fell backwards laughing. She clapped her hands, and tucked her knees attempting to roll back into her previous criss-crossed sitting position. But instead, she did an instant replay of her fall.
I pushed the dark curtain of my bangs to the side, stiffling a giggle.
"Hey, I know your embarassed, but honestly, would you really say YES?" Sammy patted my knee once, twice, in a comforting way. It was too bad her voice didn't match her action.
"Yeah, I would," I quietly said looking down at the fuzzy pink carpet of Sam's bedroom.
"Wow. I mean, like no offense, but WOW," she replied, looking at her recently painted toenails. "You know, you're amazing at doing nails. Can you do my fingers, too? Same color please," Sam handed me the hot pink bottle of polish.
"Okay let me see if mine are dry though first," I blew on my jet black nails. They almost shined, but had a very flat life to them, so shiny couldn't be a word to describe them. Almost haunting....
"Kay, but I mean, do you like, LIKE Zander?"
"Ummm...yeah. I do," I shrugged trying to look busy, and as if this conversation didn't make me want to hurt myself. I slid my hand stealthily down to my other arm, until I was able to get a good grip on one of my elastic bands that encircled my wrist.
Sam pushed my hand away, and gave me her stern grownup stare, "We've talked about this, remember?"
I nodded, and sighed. Letting go of my elastics, Sam pursued this topic, just as I hoped she wouldn't.
"Mom, Ann, Becca, Eric, Uncle Peter, Aunt Jenna, Alexis, ZANDER, Austin, Katie, Grace, Matt, Grant, and Sam. Got that? All people who love you and don't want you hurt."
"Yes, I got it. How could I forget after you posted that list in my locker, above my bed, and even on my arm!" I vigorously shook my arm in front of her face so she could see how her neat print hadn't washed away with the simple cleaning supplies of soap and water.
Her eyes became dialated. "Are those scars NEW?"
Crap! I had forgotten! I hid my arm behind my back. "What scars?" I said quick.
"The ones there," she reached around me to grab my wrist, "on your arm."
"Umm..., I fell," I lied, knowing she wouldn't believe me.
"Mhm... sure," Sam traced the burning red lines that were neatly carved into my skin, in near perfect little rows.
I sighed, "I'm SORRY, Sammy! But, I just can't... stop!"
"Do you realize how bad that is?" she indreduously questioned.
"Yes I REALIZE that!"
"And yet...?" Sam's eyes flickered to my wrist, then back to my face.
"And yet," I repeated, letting out a defeated sigh.
"You just have to be in control at all times," Sam said, in her calm patient voice, even though I knew she was no where near calm or patient at the moment.
"That's easier said than done."
"Just try!"
"I try everyday! My arms start to burn! Without the pain, I am in pain! It's like no matter what I do, I'm supposed to be hurt. I'd rather have CONTROL over my pain than have some-unknown-longing-for-pain kill me! CONTROL, like you said!" I then realized my fists were clenched and I was yelling.
I looked down, trying to regain control over my sudden frustration. Or was it anger?
The silence was unsettling. I cast a glance at Sammy to see if she had left, but she was still there.
Cross-legged and pale faced, my best friend sat across from me. Her facial expressions displayed that she was ashamed-- perhaps of me-- and ultimately depressed. Silent tears ran down her face, but Sam didn't wipe them away. If she would have, I would have felt a little better. She let them fall on purpose, letting my guilt spread.
My own eyes began to burn with the hot rush of oncoming thick tears. Spilling over, they crawled along my cheeks and bungee-jumped onto my broken-open arm.
A new kind of pain sharpened my senses. The salty teardrops had found a way into the cracks in my skin.
With sudden awareness, I became embarassed. I looked at my flaming red empidermas. The hue matched the color of blood spilled earlier. The thought made me want to climb under a rock. I had to face it, I had no control.
Sinking into a deeper depression, I bit my lip, hoping to stop myself from scratching myself to shreds.
Distracting myself didn't work. I began to search wildly around the room looking for a glistening sharp point. Anything that could cut skin would do.
"In the top drawer of the dresser next to my bed. My nail tools are there, and they're sharp...," Sammy replied,"but take it in the bathroom. I can't watch you do that to yourself."
I was so suprised. Sam never had supported my... habit. I looked straight into her eyes. Big mistake.
They sparkled with tears, and I felt the need to give her a hug. But I knew she would push me away.
Shaking my head, I tried to clear away all the fogginess that was confusing my emotions.
I couldn't lose Sam like that, not then. No not ever. She was the closest thing to a sister I had. I could tell her anything and everything. I loved her. So my mind was made up.
"No."
"What?" Sam took on a look of suprise.
"No."
"I don't understand."
"I'm not going to cut myself," I anounciated every word carefully.
"Why?" Her question caught me off guard.
I became thoughtful. I looked out the window, thinking. The minutes passed, but she didn't speak either.
"Because... I realize... I realize that by hurting myself, I'm hurting others too," I turned around to stare back into her face.
Sam's eyes only flowed faster.
I broke down right then. I collasped to the floor, my back beginning to heave violently with sobs. I didn't care that Sam saw. She was the only person who knew, so she would be the only person that could see me like this. She was more than my blood deserved.