Page 2 of Sin With Me
“I…have a razor blade.”
“It’s in your hand now?”
I swallow hard, looking at it like a lifeline. My knuckles are white from how tight I’m gripping it. “Yes.”
“Okay. Do you think you could set it down for me so we can talk?”
Shaking, I inhale a deep breath and then blow it out. “Sure, okay.”
I set it down on the edge of the tub but keep my gaze locked on it.
“Good. Can you tell me where you are?”
“The bathroom.”
“Have you harmed yourself before?”
“Yes.” Leaning my head back against the tub, I exhale. “When I was sixteen and nineteen, I cut deep enough to lose consciousness and was hospitalized.”
“Is there something makin’ you want to again?”
I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining my thoughts. When I say them aloud, they sound stupid.
When I don’t respond, she continues, “Do you struggle with depression often, Luke?”
I stifle a laugh. “That’s what they tell me.”
“Are you on medication for it?”
“Not anymore. I stopped takin’ it when I turned eighteen.”
“How come?”
“Because they wanted me to go to therapy, which I did for almost two years. Even sent me to a psychiatrist after the first hospitalization.”
“Well, I’m no therapist or doctor, but considerin’ you called tonight, I can safely assume you don’t want to relapse and harm yourself.”
“I’m tryin’ hard not to, Delly…”
“But?”
“I’m in a lot of pain. Hell, I can barely remember a time when I haven’t been. But tonight, I needed some relief from this doom feelin’ that I haven’t been able to escape in weeks. The urge to cut until I pass out is…strong,” I confess, but if I were being totally honest, I’d tell her I’ve already made a cut on my upper thigh. Not deep, though. It only bled a little, but it didn’t numb the pain either. It’s why I didn’t know when to stop the last time I landed in the hospital. I kept going until I felt that numbness and by then it was almost too late.
“Have you felt that urge since the last time you cut?”
“Yeah, a few times.” Fewdozen.
“And what stopped you those times?”
“Um, rememberin’ the consequences and how the relief is only temporary. Thinkin’ about my family. My brother, mostly. He’s the one who found me in our parents’ bathroom the first and second time.”
“Does your brother live with you now?”
“Not exactly. He lives in the apartment below mine. We share a duplex.”
“Is he home?”
“He’s still workin’.”
