Chapter three; Scars from the past
Izzy walked into the large room. The walls were completely white, and a small circle of chairs presented themselves in the middle of the room. Looking back at Jen, who gave her an encouraging smile, Izzy took a few forced steps to the empty chair, about half way around the circle.
The woman in the center smiled. Her smile was too large for her small face, and fake beyond belief. “Miss Isabella.” That was all she said as Izzy took her seat, keeping her eyes averted from all others.
“Who wants to start us off today? How about you, Amy?” The girl across from Izzy sat up straight, as if eager to share her story. “Yes, ma’am. Erm...what should I talk about first?”
“Well, why are you here?”
Amy looked away for a moment, and when she turned back, her eyes were filled with tears. “I started to cut myself.” She pulled up her sleeve, revealing the tiny knicks around her wrist. At this, Izzy’s temper began to rise. What did this, this GIRL know about cutting?
The women in the center nodded. “Hmmm. And why do you think you do this, Amy?”
Amy gave a hard sniff. “Life is just...so HARD. I mean, this is just how I get it out.”
“Where did you get the idea to do this to yourself, Amy?”
Amy seemed suprised by the question, and sank back slightly in her chair. “A TV show.”
“So, you didn’t think of the idea yourself?”
“Could you of possibly done this to mimic your favorite character? Or for...attention?”
“You don’t understand!” Amy said, her voice becoming shrill with panic. She looked around to the group. “None of you do.”
“Okay, Amy. We will discuss this after the meeting. For now, lets move on.” The woman glanced around the room, and Izzy felt her eyes pause on her. Izzy tensed.
“Isabella, how about you? Why are you here?”
Izzy remained silent, now playing with a ripped piece of the chair beneath her. She prayed that, when she ignored the question, the women would move on. She didn’t.
“Isabella, I would appreciate an answer.”
All eyes were on her. Izzy glanced up, trying to look innocent. “Because Jennifer brought me here.”
“Yes, but why did she bring you here?”
“Because she found me.”
The women looked like she was growing slightly impatient, but she continued to smile. “Isabella, why are you being treated?”
“If I knew why I was being treated like a child, I’d tell you.”
The women let out a sigh. “Alright, moving on. Billy, why are you here?
* * *
“We all have to participate in arts and crafts, Isabella.”
“Because, we can’t simply cut you off from the world. Now get in there, and make something!”
The man sighed and gently pushed Izzy into the arts and crafts room, closing the door behind her.
Agitated, Izzy sat down and started cutting a piece of paper into small strips. She glanced around, noticing that all the nurses were busy, and no one was sitting with her. Slowly, she shoved the scissors into her pocket, grabbing another pair and continuing to cut the paper.
* * *
The sharp metal ran over her skin, letting small droplets of red liquid seep out through the small crack in her wrist. It was dark under the covers, but Izzy managed to make a neat row of three lines, all bright red with aggravation.The pain rushed through her, making her eyes water. Her body was telling her brain to stop, warning it of danger, but her mind forced her to keep going. Four lines, five. Izzy cringed, putting the scissors down. Each new wound lay parallel with past scars, showing where this procedure had been preformed before.