everyone's always told me i'm a good reader.

-

when i saw you today, there were long rows of crimson scars sliced into both of your arms. i looked from the cuts and into your eyes, and i could see my own name quite clearly.

"what happened?" i asked, clinging to the hope that you upset a cat. that you got into a fight. anything else.

you looked at me with a flat stare. "what you do think?"

my heart sank.

against my will, i looked back at your arms. and i read over the silent letters of my name, over and over again.

-

i wish i wasn't such a good reader.