Writers note: Yea, so this was my first semi-successful attempt at writing a story. I know it's not very good

She's scratching the surface. Her conscience tells her to stop, "I promised myself I wouldn't", but who keeps promises these days? It's been a bad week, she has an excuse. A few more seconds and she breaks the skin. The pain settles in. "Oh god, what have I done?" The realization hits her. "I'm one of them. I'm a cutter."

This was no specific day, or time. This was just another episode in her hell of a life. She wakes up in the morning yet walks around in a daze. Her blue eyes show only your reflection, no spark of life. Sometimes she wishes she were dead. Yet in a way, she already is.

Lifeless, she sets forth for the day. First period is a daze. Somehow, she manages to laugh today. It's an improvement, and people would think she's happy. She's even fooled some of her friends. Friends. What a strange word. Aren't they the people who are there for you no matter what? For the good, the bad, and everything in between? True friends? She has none. She's alone in this world. Alone and afraid, although she'd never admit it. Afraid of who she is, who she's becoming. She was always the good girl; a parents dream, a model child. Now, her parents don't want her around. With no real home, and no real friends, where can she go?

A child's laughter radiates off the water's surface, as she dives below the waves. Her mother stands by the shore, proud of her little girl and who she is becoming. She loves the water, like her mother- if given the chance she would grow gills and never leave. Spying a fish, she dives below and chases after it. She's hit by a wave a pushed back. While most children would cry or complain, she just laughs. She's at the beach; she doesn't care what's happening anywhere else.

Empty stares emanate from her eyes as she sits for lunch. The people around her are laughing while she watches, yet she won't join in. She's sitting with happy people. Thoughts flood her mind all at once- "Do I not deserve to be happy? Am I too ugly? Too fat? Too mean? Too smart? Too stupid? . So why aren't I happy? Why do I start crying for no reason at all? I don't know who I am, or who I want to be". Coming back to reality she picks a fresh patch of skin and scratches furiously. No one even notices. She's crafty though, putting her arm under the table and acting normal. It's a perfect disguise. Who would guess she's dying inside?

She's once again at the beach, a few years older now. Her 12-year-old athletic frame basks in sunlight as she watches the people pass. She had a bad week. The death of a family member always brings trouble. She cried for days. And then she went to the beach. Now she sits motionless on a rock, thinking about her life. Thoughts that would have reduced her to tears fade into the shadows of her mind while fond memories shine in the front. The waves crash upon the shore and wash away, bringing with them happier times and washing away the sadness.

At home, nothing matters. She runs up to her room and turns the music as loud as it will go. The house will shake, and her parents will yell; yet the house is sturdy and her parents hate her anyway. She finds some solace in writing, one of the few things she excels at. She feels at home while pouring her heart out onto the page. There's something about taking a blank piece of paper and filling it with an essence of herself that has always intrigued her. Even since she learned how to write she has done this. And she's kept it all. Through the good, the bad, and everything in-between.

As she writes she spies a solitary stone upon her desk. A reminder of happier times when she had the time and the desire to be outside, living her life. A keepsake from a day at the beach. She remembers her feelings from previous visits and realizes where she needs to be.

Bolting out of her house, she runs the entire distance to the beach, a task she never knew she was capable of. With her diary in hand as her closest friend, and the waves crashing as if taking her troubles with them, she is finally home.