Author's Note: Well, this is entirely fiction (so no bad ideas anyone!), and entirely mine (so no stealing anyone!). Please, read and review! :) Warning: I don't know how triggering this is to any self-injurers/ex self-injurers, so please be safe.

She sighed sadly, and leaned back against the bedpost. I'm not dreaming, am I? she silently asked herself.

But she knew she wasn't. She reached into the hidden space next to the bed, and flinched as she felt the cold metal against her skin. Let me wake up…

But she can't awake unless she's sleeping, and she knew she wasn't asleep. She pulled the razor out, and stared at it for a few minutes. So many months ago I stopped; why do I have to start again now?

But she knew why, and there was nothing she could do. She could only pray for God to help her as she pressed the blade against her skin, pray for guidance as the blood quickly flowed. She'd cut deep; it had been too long since she'd cut, she'd forgotten control. Yet, even the blood from the cut flowed quickly and thick, she still found herself wanting more blood to flow, to create more cuts. Oh dear God I've lost control again…

She pressed the razor down upon another area of her arm, next to the first. She pressed it down harder this time, making sure there was more blood. More blood… too much blood.

Yet, she still didn't stop there. She kept cutting and cutting, completely unaware of what was happening around her. Eventually, the paramedic picked her up gently, while the other put a cloth over her arm, trying to stop the bleeding. There must be over 20…

A few hours later, he was still sitting next to her hospital bed, waiting for her to awake. "Please, I love you, we can work it out, just wake up…" he whispered softly to her.

After watching her for a few more minutes, she finally stirred.

"How are you feeling, love?" he asked her when she'd completely woken up.

She looked confused. "What happened? I don't remember… I just-" it dawned on her. "Oh God I didn't. Tell me I didn't!" she begged him.

He looked at her sadly. How do I tell her? "The doctors say that there are about 27 cuts on your arm, but they aren't sure, since some are blended together." Which he was sure she'd done on purpose. Once, years ago, she'd told him that she used to cut close to an old scar or on it, so that there were less actual scars, but more cuts. "They… they're thinking of releasing you to St. Justin's."

She'd been pale before, due to her lack of blood, but that was nothing compared to when she heard that. St. Justin's was the local mental institution. God, anywhere but there, please… "You can't let them!"

His blue eyes were full of pain. "Why, love? Why? God, wasn't it enough that I loved you? What…?" the unspoken question hung between the two lovers.

She looked away from him, and, like his, her gray eyes were full of pain. "I don't know. I just… everything caught up to me. The miscarriage, the issues with my friends. I've always wondered if you really do love me, and I guess I just started to believe the little voice in my head that told me that you don't."

He started crying, and she did too. "I love you! God, what do I have to do to prove that to you?" he said through his tears.

She stared at him, waiting to answer. "I know you do… but it's too late now, isn't it?" she said softly, knowing the answer. He won't even want to try to keep me out…

He watched her, and gradually his tears subsided. "Yes… yes, it is. Maybe you're right… I think that maybe St. Justin's will be good for you, love…" he said softly, standing up. How can I say that? God, maybe I don't really love her. Maybe she's right…

She stared at his retreating back. I've really lost everything now, haven't I? I knew that if I cut again, I would, but I was so willing to take the chance, I was so upset… I really have lost everything.

Author's Note: The moral of the story? Don't cut. If you do, stop. Please. Someone out there loves you.

Thanks: To anyone who'll review (which, by the way, you should be doing after you read this), and to Trav. I love you, and don't get any bad ideas- I'm not worried!

Lav