Volcano

Volcanoes spend 99% of their time dormant.
Waiting, Watching.
Biding their time while building up power.
As everyone forgets me, I erupt.
Raw power flows from me.
Changing everything around me.
Sadly I use all my strength.
Alas it is time for me to rest again.
Waiting, watching.

A Fate Worse Than Death

Lightning flashes in the room and for a split second she sees him… She curls tighter into the side of the desk. Her hair is matted to her forehead and sweat beads down her face. Her eyes dart around the room, searching. She knows he must hear her heart beating a hole in her chest. Shadows play tricks with her mind as she sits, still as her body will allow. The house shakes as the wind and rain beat against it. Every creak of the old house makes her heart stop. A flash of silvery moonlight reflects off the point of a knife protruding from the darkness. The man steps into the light with it, like a shadow risen from the grave. Back into shadow he glides. The door slams as he leaves. She slowly lets out the breath that seemed an eternity to hold. She is shaking from head to toe. Even as she fights to regain control of her ragged breath she knows he’s there, watching outside, waiting for her to make her mistake. She begins to think of her final plan of escape. Then the old dusty floorboards creak and out jumps the man. She bolts for the door without thought. She feels nothing as her instincts take over. Time seems to come to a stop as she flees, her heart beast so slow. As the seconds go by, she wonders why he hasn’t caught her yet. Her body finally gives out and she slows to a stop. Sweat mixes with the rain running down her body. She doubles over, heaving to catch her breath. As she calms down she looks around for the first time. Slowly she remembers. The memory of this place comes flooding back. Years ago she called this home. Now he no longer has her and she’s free. Free to live.

Cutting Away Your Life

“Then I placed the blade next to the skin on my palm. A tingle arced across my scalp. The blood tipped up at me and my body spiraled away.” This, sadly, is what Callie does to herself. She cuts. “Never too deep, never enough to die. But enough to feel the pain. Enough to scream inside.” Cut is the story of Callie after people discover her secret. Patricia McCormick wrote this book eight years ago.
Unfortunately cutting is not a fictional problem. Thousands of people cut themselves in America. Most people think that it’s disgusting and cutters are crazy. They aren’t. At least just cutting doesn’t make them crazy. To them it’s their only release, the only way to express their pain, to feel something, anything. Cutters aren’t crazy but maybe if more people cared, or took them seriously, just long enough to hear their voice, they might understand how much pain they’re in. They can be helped, and we can help them.