I hold the cigarette lighter up in front of my face and watch the flame flicker in the slight air current created by the fan in my room. As I watch it, I can feel the anger and pain boiling up inside of me that is threatening to explode. If you looked at me, you wouldn't be able to see it but I am never able to forget it's there.

I let the flame go out while I reach down to get a cigarette out of of the pack sitting next to me. The package is about half full and I start considering how I'm going to get some more. It's not exactly easy to get them when you're under 21.

I rest the cigarette between my lips and grip it loosely trying to avoid biting into it at all. With surprising gentleness I hold the lighter back up and hold it just below the end of the cigarette so that the yellow part of the flame is just barely touching it. It takes much longer to light this way but it has a sort of mesmerizing effect on me and I continue to do it every time and it's pretty much a routine now.

Finally the flame catches and I take the cigarette out of my mouth almost immediately. I don't like the taste of the things and so I never keep it in my mouth long. That and I don't want to have any negative from smoking.

While still holding the still lit cigarette in one hand, I hide the quickly remaining ones and the lighter in a drawer no one will waste their time looking in. Once I finish that I put the cigarette back in my mouth and hold my breath while I pull up my shirt and tuck it underneath the lining of my sports bra; I don't want it slipping down. Once again, I quickly take the cigarette out of my mouth. I know I'm in no real danger of having anything happen from smoking since I'm not actually smoking but I still don't want the thing in my mouth any longer than it has to be.

With my shirt pulled up and my stomach visible it's easy to see the burns from days and weeks before. They are healing well and I don't mess with them but they sure map out a sad sort of existence.

I wait there for a second, just sitting there holding the cigarette. I don't know why I do this every time but it too is part of the routine. I guess I'm seriously considering what I'm about to do but I don't usually spend a whole lot of time actually thinking about it, it just sort of happens. Maybe I want to make sure the cigarette doesn't get to hot but that too doesn't make sense since it's already burning, it's not like flame gets hotter or colder.

After a certain amount of time has passed I take the cigarette I had just lit and press it up against a clear space on my stomach where there aren't any other burns around.

It doesn't even hurt anymore, it simply feels like getting an ant bite or something similar. The effect I do feel though is much more noticeable. All the anger and pain I'd been feeling earlier suddenly seems like it's being sucked out a drain and I feel something new emerging within myself.

I don't leave the cigarette against my skin for long, I don't want serious burns though I have often been tempted to see if holding it longer would somehow make the feeling last longer.

I reapply the cigarette to a new place about twice more and by the time I'm done I feel like a whole new person. I no longer feel depressed, angry for no reason, or like I'm about to break down and cry. Instead I feel like who I used to be, a girl I haven't been able to keep around since eighth grade, a happy, funny, girl with a spontaneous smile and easy laugh that seems to come from deep within. As I feel her emerging again it's almost like seeing a friend after a long vacation from school.

I almost sigh with relief as I begin to feel like me again. I just wish I could stay like this without having to go through this process every few weeks.

Once I'm done I snub the cigarette out and spray perfume around the room so no one will notice the smoky smell that is now hanging around. My parents would not take kindly to the fact that I'm smoking even if I'm not smoking. Of course, smoking would be the lesser of the two evils in their opinion.

I pull my shirt down and crawl into the bed. I know I'll be able to sleep tonight. I know that tonight I won't be staying up until 2 or 3 and that my dreams will be pleasant to remember. And I'm right, I'm out within the hour.

By the next morning I'm still feeling amazing and school, even though it's never fun, can be described as something better than normal.

By the time lunch rolls around I'm actually in a better mood than when I arrived which is something I've never been able to say before. I'm sitting at a table with some other girls in my grade joking around about something that had happened in our last class when I happen to glance up and see a familiar face coming in through the cafeteria door.

It's Kate. My heart skips a beat as I see her face. I haven't done more than text her off and on since she left for college a couple months, that feel more like years to me, ago. We may have only been friends but it felt like we were more like sisters or almost-lovers but it had never gone quite that far.

I jump up out of my seat and walk as quickly as I can over to greet her. I would have given her a running hug except then I'd have to sit through the 'no running inside' lecture like I was still a toddler. She grips me tightly and spins me around in a little circle. I laugh quietly in her ear but all of a sudden she puts me down.

I look up at her confused, that was oddly abrupt, and see a look I had hoped to never see in her eyes. She's giving me a look that says, I know. I don't even have to wonder what it is she knows. My hand instinctively goes to by stomach and I pull down my shirt. Had it come up when she hugged me or something? There's no other way she could know and she'd been perfectly fine just 30 seconds ago. I know we'll have to talk later and suddenly her coming back is much less appealing.

The rest of the day seems to drag by and rush on simultaneously. At the end of it we both head over to my house and she politely waits until we're safely ensconed in my bedroom before lighting into me.

"What the hell is that Sami?" She takes my shirt and pulls it up just a little bit so that some of the older burns are visible.

I push my shirt back down and try to shrug it off. "It's nothing." I offer up as a weak excuse for something that is so obviously not nothing.

"Did you do that to yourself?" She knows the answer, she just wants me to admit it.

I look up at her with a guilty look in my eyes and suddenly she stops the interrogation and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug.

For the next 30 minutes she doesn't say anything as she carefully cleans the burns, even the old ones that are practically healed already, and covers them all up with little bandages. When she's finished, she packs everything away and puts it back where it came from and then she starts going through me room.

I know enough to know that she's looking for the lighter and cigarettes and that it's useless to stop her. Part of me wants this anyways. It doesn't take her long to find it. She knows me to well and it's the second place she looks. She takes the little pile and throws it all away in the outside garbage can so I won't even consider going to get it back after she leaves. Once she's finished all of that she comes and sits next to me again.

For a while we just sit there next to each other, each thinking about what had just happened and then I start to feel an arm coming around my shoulders and I realize I've been crying. Kate holds me and lets me cry myself out and as I cry I find myself telling her everything and a funny thing happens. The same effect I'd gotten from the burning comes over me as I tell her everything and she listens and comments occasionally. By the end of it I have no doubt in my mind that I'll never want to use another cigarette again.

I put my head down in her lap, suddenly very tired from all the emotion I've used in the last hour. She rubs my head and tells me she loves me even as she threatens to kill me if I ever do that to myself again while I slowly fall asleep.