This wasn't where he wanted to be. In his room, laying on the dark blue sheets of the bed, with his red stains that wasn't there ten minutes ago. He didn't choose this way of life. Fate did. If fate had given him more options, he wouldn't have this choice.

He once again stared at the small, shiny weapon that laid next to his wounded arm, with a big line of red on the sharp end, laying there, almost inviting him to pick it up once again, and cut another soothing mark onto himself.
He stared up towards the ceiling, and thought to himself, "who would notice?" Not mom, not dad, not Rebecca, not Ellen, not Kim, not Eric, not Justin, not anyone. No-one had ever even questioned why he wore wristwarmers and long-sleeved shirt in 30 Co during the summers. No-one even cared.

So why would they notice? Why would they suddenly feel that maybe something was wrong with him, that it wasn't normal to lock yourself into a room almost 90% of the days, and all days of the weekends, and never wanting to travel, or go outside at all. It was completely normal when you were a teenager, right? It was normal as a 17-year old, isn't it? Of courtse, so why would they question it. Mom was too busy with Ellen, and Dad was too busy with his career, so why would they notice that he maybe dissapeared right here, on the bed today?

Twitching, he looked at the wound again. The blood had started to run again, and he was feeling dizzy. he stared at the computer screen to the right of him, where Amanda had started to write quick messages on Facebook. She probably wondered why he wasn't replying as quick as he usually did. Mustering up the strength of standing, he walked towards the computer, and wrote a quick status.

"In all my days, the sun hasn't shined. It's just glared at me, wishing i wasn't stealing from it. The rain has always wanted me to drown from it's downfalls, it's soaked me to sickness. The earth thinks I step too hard on it, and the winsd wan ts to blow me away from this planet. I will take my leave, and sleep... Forever"

Immediately, almost a minute after he pressed the Post button, Amanda wrote on it, an order.
"I'm coming over, and you will be sitting on your bed, waiting, and not move." He sighed slightly. She rarely did their routine, but maybe she felt it was needed now. It was rather painful mostly because she had to harm him, which he knew hurt her. He followed the orders, and sat on the bed, trying to keep awake, while putting the razorblade away.

After almost five minutes, the readheaded girl walked in, with a small purse, and sat next to him on the bed, staring him into his green eyes. "Hold out your arm" she ordered, and he obeyed, not liking making her mad. Not understanding why he listened to her, but knowing how hurt she'd be if he didn't, he always did as told with her. Even when the pain of having to open the wounds lingered for hours, especially after she had spritzed sanitizer into the wounds to disinfect then.

She now looked on the bed and frowned. "Where's the razor?" he heard her ask, and without complaint, he grabbed it from the desk, where he had tried to hide it, and gave it to her. After inspecting it for a minute, she frowned even deeper, and held it high for him to see. "Do you see the problem with this one?"

He shook his head. "Because it has blood still on it?" she shook her head, and raised a hand, and seeing him shut his eyes tightly, she grabbed his brown bangs, and tugged sharply, and quick on them, and heard his yelp of the pain. Looking up again, he blinked. "No slap today..?"

She shook her head to a response. "No, because I'm sure you won't learn from it. It's rusty." she pointed to the small rust that was right at the tip of the blade. Standing up and grabbing as marker, she gave both to him.

"Mark which cuts you did with this razor, and give both back to me, then we'll start the procedure and punishment." and he immediately obeyed. With how close the marks were to each other, he wondered if he would bleed to deasth when she reopened the wounds, but she'd probably know how to stop it immediately, and not to open too much.

After marking every spot, she pulled him to the bathroom, and pushed him inside, pulling out the contents of her purse: Razor, Sanitizer, cleansing wipe, soap, and bandage. He sighed, and sat down on the side of the bathtub as she started working. Reopening the wounds hurt, but he tried hard not to show it. The sink was full of blood, it looked like those images on google when the sinks were practically drowning of the blood in them.

She gently sprayed some sanitizer in the wounds, and he twitched and tried to get away from her grasp, but the grip on his arm was too strong, and he had to keep the pain in for a minute. After that, she pulled the tap, and let some water flow. After cleaning the cuts with the wipe, his arm was lowered into the water, and she began to soap the arm, ignoring the hisses and flinching that came from him.

"I'm only doing this for you." she stated, and let him remove his arm from the water, before using another wipe to clean off the remaining blood, and wrap the arm in bandage. He sighed as she finished up, and stood over him, glaring with her hands on her hips. "What did I tell you last time you and I did this?"

"That you didn't want to have to repeat this.." he sighed, and looked down onto the floor, where some blood was visible. He had to clean that up later on. She raised her hand, and he closed his eyes, as her hand came towards his face, and the sound of the sharp slap was heard. His left cheek stung, but he ignored it, and avoided her eyes. "Sorry".

She sat with him in there for almost four hours, just talking, and she didn't let him out until she was sure he was laughing a real laugh, and smiling, and he had told her why he was suicidal, and until she had managed to make him not think about it for now. She had also tightened the bandage, so the wounds stung, as punishment.

When at the door, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Get your ass to school tomorrow, and I'll loosen the bandage." she ordered, smiling. She knew he wouldn't ask his mother to do it, because then she'd know what he was doing. As soon as she left the house, he smiled to himself. "Well, seems fate likes me at least slightly to give me her..."