'Nobody truly loves me.' A pen floated over the clean white paper. 'I mean there is that love that is given to me because; I am a mother, a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a cousin. But nobody out there truly loves me for who and what I really am.'

The gentle soul holding the pen let out a soft breath as a tear ran down her pale cheek. Pain gripped her heart with a death grip.

She knew deep down inside that she was too damaged for anyone to really care about. The scars of her past ran too deep to leave anything but an ugly mass behind. Don't get me wrong. Those around her thought her strong and whole. She has even been called a hero by a few people, but if they only knew the real her.

She looked over the red markings across the plain white paper. So much like the blood I seal it with. She thought to herself.

Taking the paper and folding it carefully into a small inch square piece of art. She sighed at another piece of her pain locked away for no one to see.

Hugging her red bathrobe closer to her body she stood and stretched. She was cold yet again with pain and loneliness.

She stood looking at her computer sitting on her desk, the screen mocker her with its bright colour and cheerful screen saver. Scenes of calm waters, beautiful sunsets and strong animals flashed across it.

Her eyes soon found themselves falling to the floor. And she shook her head at the dark thoughts that ran through her head.

With all the calm she could muster she turned and walked down the hall, past her living room and into her kitchen. She pulled out the drawer close to the sink and reached in to pull out her screwdriver set. Her hip lashed out to close said drawer as she laid the grey box on the counter. With a quick snap the cover was raised off the plastic container revealing the contents. She withdrew something that shouldn't have been in there before closing the lid.

Walking back to her living room holding the piece of folded paper and the treasure from the screwdriver set. She collapsed onto the old worn couch.

One of her cats promptly jumped onto her lap looking to be pet. She gently pushed the feline off her onto the floor. "Not now darling, I need to take care of something first."

She laid the folded piece of paper beside her on the couch.

She took the treasure and wiped it off on her black shirt. With another great sigh she pressed it to her ankle just above the bone. She held her breath and looked to the ceiling before pulling the sharp edge across her flesh.

She gasped as the blade sank deeper then it had ever done before. The blood slowly welled up into the cut. She allowed it to flow freely for a while before she tossed her feet onto the couch. She held that one ankle over the folded piece of paper and let the fresh blood drip onto the white surface.

It didn't take long before the blood covered the paper.

She stood up again allowing the blood to trickle down her heel and walked over to where her television sat. Pulling out a small box hiding behind the TV she placed the blood soaked paper with the others like it. She had lost count as to how many of these confessions and revelations there truly where. But then again she didn't really care. They were just pieces of her locked away from everybody, even herself.

She now took her time to clean the wound, couch and floor, bandaging the cut with great care. Nobody knew what she did, and nobody was going to find out. She was almost glad that scars faded on her body weeks after the cuts were completely healed.

Taking the cushions off the couch and tossing them on the floor, she pulled out her bed. Once the bed was pulled out she walked back to her computer room and opened the closet door. She pulled out the two pillows located there and walked them back to the living room. Placing them carefully at the head of the bed she made a return to get the blankets that where in the same closet.

She paused to look at the blankets lying on the sheets of her bed. She thought about how the blankets seemed to be chaos tamed. The way they bundled themselves on top of one another but still remained slightly folded. Taking the pile into hand once again she placed them on the nearby chair.

Taking the flat sheet she threw it in the air holding onto one corner to straighten it out. It fell like a feather to the bed. Taking the right edge she repeated the actions of before until it lay flat across the bed. She turned to grab the next blanket and to repeat the actions, trying not to move the sheet below. When that blanket was just right, she started on the third and final blanket.

With her bed finally made she turned and walked down the hallway to the room where her little girl slept, so peaceful and worry free. A sharp pain flashed through her chest before she could push the thoughts away. But it didn't stop her from changing from her clothes into the pyjamas that matched the bathrobe.

That done she walked back to her bed to find what little peace she had left, her thoughts running to the next day. A day that she knew would be like the others. She would get up, turn on her computer and find nobody there to talk to. When her daughter woke up she would take her to her grandmothers for breakfast. Where she would try to keep everything quiet while the other still slept. She would return to her little house and spend the day reading, until somebody came onto the Internet. She would then pretend to be cheerful as she broke down with being alone. Helping them wherever she could with their problems. She would then cook a simple dinner for everybody and escape again to her house. Her brother would soon make his way over to use the video game system. And soon she would be back at her grandmothers to watch a few interesting television shows. Then back out to her safe hole where she would put her daughter to bed, then write her letter, seal it and go to sleep.

Nothing new and nothing gained. But at least that little piece of pain was gone. Gone forever. Locked up for all time.