My hands began to shake as I knocked on the door. I had my bag hanging awkwardly off of my shoulder. I heard footsteps. Someone opened the door. "Mariah. Did you bring the stuff?" I nodded. "Well then come on in," he said with a smile. I walked into his house. Micah was already on the couch. Dante took the bag off of my shoulder and set it on the coffee table. I sat down on the couch. Micah smiled. "So," Micah began, "what changed your mind? I thought you were out of this business." Dante stopped unpacking my bag to turn and watch me as I answered. I smiled. "Things changed." As soon as Dante had finished unpacking the bag, Micah began to take off his sweatshirt. Dante followed, me not long behind. Everything was lined neatly along the coffee table. Not one thing was out of place. Everything was perfectly in order. My hands began to shake in excitement. It didn't go unnoticed. Micah's hands were shaking, too. Dante was calm as could be, though. He was used to this.

Dante spoke. "Well, I'm ready to begin this party. Mariah, are you sure you're ready for this?" I laughed. Of course I was. I nodded. Micah made the first move. He grabbed a blade. I followed, then Dante. Each of us were holding a blade. Then it was my turn to be first. I looked at my naked wrist. I brought the blade to my skin. I made a quick slash. They both watched. Then Dante took the blade to his wrist and made a quick slash. Micah followed our lead. We each had one cut. We all just sat there, music blaring in the other room, watching ourselves, each other, bleed. It was a magical thing. I brought the blade to my other wrist, not caring about what I was doing anymore. I made another quick slash. It stung, then the pain was over. They both followed. A tear began to weave its way down Dante's face. I took my thumb and wiped it away. "We're okay, Dante. We're all okay now."

A few cuts later, we all took a break. Micah grabbed the peroxide and a tissue. He dumped the peroxide on his arms and laughed. "The bubbles tickle. Don't look at me like that." He was kidding. He was smiling. We are all so damn demented. I took a tissue and I wiped the blood drips off of my arms. I had thirteen cuts. Six on one arm, seven on the other. Micah only had seven. Dante only had nine. I was in the lead by far. Dante made a suggestion. "Should we whip out some of the cocaine?" I said I wasn't ready quite yet. Micah agreed. He said he was too involved in tearing himself apart at the moment. Dante shrugged and made another small cut on his left wrist. I did the same. Micah just sat there, slowly watching his wrists bleed. I remembered being made fun of earlier that day. Walking through the store. I was hot, so I lifted my sleeves. Apparently that was a bad idea. A douche stopped me. He laughed. "You must be a worthless piece of shit. You look like it." Then he walked off, laughing. I made another slash. Deeper this time. I remembered Mikey leaving. I was a problem when he had his own. I made two slashes. Harder. Faster. I forgot I wasn't alone. My hand began to shake. I took off my pants. I started slashing my thighs. Harder. Faster. Deeper. Longer. I was out of control. I was bleeding from not only my wrists and arms, but my thighs, too. I began to cry.

The harder I cried, the harder I cut. Soon I was sobbing, practically stabbing myself with the blade repeatedly. Then I was screaming. "DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE!" I felt a two hands on my wrists, but I couldn't get out of the trance I was in. I was too focused on ruining myself. "Mariah! Fuck, stop it! Mariah you're going to kill yourself! Mariah, stop it! Fuck Micah try to grab the blade!" I started laughing, tears pouring from my eyes. "Mariah, stop. Listen to me. It's okay. We're here. It's okay." Micah finally was able to rip the blade out of my hand. Both of my hands were shaking from not only adrenaline but pain. I hurt everywhere. I began to sob harder than I had ever sobbed before. Dante sat on the couch and pulled me to him. Micah went about attending to my cuts. Dante had to hold me tighter than I had ever been held to make me stop shaking. "Shhh Mariah, we're here, listen to me, we're okay, we're all okay now, everything is okay, shhhhh Dante's here." Micah finished cleaning and dressing my wounds and sat on the other side of me. Blood was dripping down both of their wrists.

Micah spoke as a tear silently fell from his eye. "Why didn't you stop?" The answer was simple. "Because it feels so good when I do stop." I fell asleep like that, Dante holding me tightly, Micah holding my hand.

Demented?
I think just a little.