I sat down on the bed and closed my eyes. Graham didn’t understand that it was hard for me to quit. Yes, I hadn’t done it in… months probably. But that didn’t come with ideas of cutting, cravings, the whole works. Izzy was bouncing around on the floor trying to get onto the bed.
“Come on, Iz. Show the world height doesn’t matter.” I said, laughing. I swept her off the floor and put her on the bed beside me.
“So Izzy. Do you at least understand where I’m coming from with this?” I asked. She was too busy attacking lumps in the bedspread. I smiled.
“Well, we can pretend you do.” I said. I looked at my wrists. My wrists were normal color, but the scars were definitely there. I looked around the room. Searching for my weapon.