Break, broke, broken.

She slammed the door shut. Alone in her own world and away from the world outside, at last. It has been suppressed in her for too long, the mockery, the sarcasm, etc. There is only that much she could handle and dismissed away nonchalantly.

She didn't know what got into her, she saw the tweezer lying on the table and without any hesitation or care, she snatched it and slashed her arm wildly.

When she saw the blood oozing to her skin, her sanity came back and she stopped. She sat at the edge of her bed and cried, pillow in her face acting as a muffler. She didn't want anyone to know, didn't want anyone to witness her crazy antics.

The pain kicked in, she cried till she was shivering and gasping for breath. Wallowing in self-pity, crying her heart out all the sorrows she had swallowed and endured over the years.

What is wrong with her? Why?

She forced herself to calm down, washed her face, attended to her wounds, and lay down in bed for a brand new day ahead.

But will there be scars? They can never go away completely...