• Giovanna rushes into her special room, slamming the door with heavy breath. She has no regrets—in her mind she believes she never will. Her watch ticks away the minutes she has until her secret has to be shut. She is slumped on the floor, the cabinet pushed aside, revealing the sharp edge stained with red. Her trend, her fingerless glove, is pushed forward, revealing criss-crossed marks that are raised out of her skin. Now the blade is held against her wrist, not a tremble marking the fear that stains Giovanna’s once-bright blue eyes. She turns the pressure higher, slightly, and the sleek metal cuts into the flesh, past the desolate ridges and each forsaken violet vein. The ebullient red liquid bubbles out of the fresh cuts, delivering a moment of euphoria to this dismal future waiting ever so callously in time to come. Relief spreads throughout Giovanna’s secret after-school sanctuary, toxic gases withering the aura of darkness. For a brief moment, a feeling brought back from the yesterday of every day soaks up the air. But then, as always it has to happen, the sound of keys in a lock is heard. The cherished moment is over; time to go back to life has now materialized.