I walk into the bathroom,
and I see a girl.
A girl leaning over the toilet.
A girl with bleeding wrists.
A girl with tears in her eyes.
This girl has dark brown hair,
and the perfect ringlets.
This girl is resting her head
on the toilet seat.
I look in the toilet,
and I see a fragment of... her.
That's when it hits me.
She just forced herself to throw up.
A tear rolls down her cheek,
and she goes to wipe it with her wrist,
but instead, just smeared blood all over her face.
There are little blood droplets
all over the floor.
Mascara is running down her face.
Everything around her seems to be blurry.
All I can focus on is her.
I can feel her pain. I can feel her hurt.
That's when I look at my own wrists.
They're bleeding.
That's when I realize
there's vomit around my mouth, too.
That's when I realize I'm crying, too.
My body has the exact same cuts.
That's when I realize who she is.
This girl,
this ruined girl,
is me.
I start to cry even more,
and so does the girl.
I whisper something to her,
and I walk away.
"happy birthday."