The first time I cut, it was terrifying. I didn't actually realize what I had done, until I had done it. It happened almost instantly... I went out into the garage. It had almost become a safe-haven, a fortress to protect me when my mom would start shouting and such. I sat down at the work bench and looked up. There was a magnetic strip hanging on the wall, and there it was. Just hanging there. Not ominously, just there. It was almost inviting or comforting. I reached up. It felt good to hold in my hand. I had gotten good with that knife, working on projects for school or something. And then... I did it. I don't know why. I just did. And then, everything was clear. Really clear. As if the world had gotten brighter, colours were more vibrant, all of my senses were abuzz, taking in this new world. I had no worries, no concerns. I saw the subtle differences in colour, and heard the slight variations of the sounds I was so used to. I didn't notice the blood until it dripped onto my jeans. Then I was scared. I had actually caused myself physical pain. I did it without thinking. Then a thought occured to me: what else could I do if I didn't take the time to think? I could cause more damage to myself than any one else. I had so much power over myself now that I knew this secret. A secret that will forever haunt me. A secret that I can't help but remember as I look down from some place high, or when I get behind the wheel of a car. I promised that I would never allow myself to do that again. I lied.