"What the fuck is that, sweety?"

"You know exactly what that is," i said weakly, trying not to shake. His hand was squeezing my arm so hard i knew i would bruise.

"Didn't i tell you that if you fucking do that again, i'm not gonna talk to you? Why the hell did you have to do in your wrists? Why couldn't you do your arms, your legs? Ask any asshole on the street how to kill yourself fast and he'll tell you to slit your fucking wrists!"

"It wasn't deep enough in the first place - most of these barely bled!"

"Let me see them," he said, and he yanked my hands toward me. I didn't have much of a choice.

"You don't want to see them," i argued back, "it's fucked up. Just don't ask." I tried to pull away, but he'd already pushed both the bands up my arm, and the countless lines of jagged red glared up at him. For a moment, he couldn't even speak.

"One day you're gonna kill yourself," he began again, "and i don't give a shit how much they bled, the fact that they're there in the first place is bad enough! You know what?" he was so angry he couldn't control his voice, and his hands were in the air with gestures expressing so much rage that for the first time, i was almost scared of him. "Just don't talk to me ever, okay?"

"If that's what you want," i said, still quiet, "then all right."

I'd already felt like i was going to pass out when they woke me up with a call, and melanie, always cheerful, told me to get up and get over to the square. He'd just made it worse. I saw the vicious appearance of both my wrists and vainly concealed them with a couple of big hair scrunchies. I hadn't bled as much as i wanted to, because the razor was too blunt and rusted, and barely deep enough to make a slit. I made cuts, again and again, hoping that i'd enjoy the red river that had come so easily, just two years before. I'd never done it so wrecklessly in all the years since i started - i was inclined to one or two small, deep, tidy slits that i could easily cover. I only stuck to my right wrist, so i had less of a chance of being discovered. This time, i had gone wild, mutilating both in my state of panic.

And when i had made so many slits that it looked like i should have been dead already, i gave up the lust for blood and fell asleep. I wasn't thinking of wessam when i did it. All i imagined was the relief that used to come.

But he has a telapathic way into my mind. He  knows almost everything about me. He knows me better than myself. Five minutes into my arrival it had occured to him that something was hiding beneath the hairbands, and he pulled them back while i was sitting with my three closest companions on the bench. I had recoiled so strongly you'd expect the same reaction if he'd burned me with a cigarette.

"What the fuck!?" he gasped. I closed my eyes, begging to sink into the floor. God damnit, nothing gets past this guy.

"Don't talk about it here," i said. "Please."

As melanie spoke cheerfully about the children in the square that used to play with her dog, i listened, trying to be normal, but feeling his sharp, murderous glare on me every second. As i exhaled tobacco smoke, i was so nervous it came out in little puffs, instead of one long, intoxicative line.

"What the fuck?" he said again, the veins in his neck protruding.

"Dude!" melanie said, "what the hell is up with the attitude?"

He'd pulled me away. He'd yelled. He'd given me my sentence. We'd returned to the bench, to Melanie and Ne-el. I sat down. My head was spinning. I could barely breathe. His glare was on me. It never went.

And then the two men left. "Where are they going?" i asked.

"Drug shopping," melanie said simply. "Don't worry about it."

She asked me what was up, what the screaming was about. I was falling to pieces right in front of her eyes. "What is it, are you breaking down?"

I could only nod.

"That's all right, after everything that's happened you can't be surprised at breaking down."

"Not in this square, surrounded by all these people," i said.

"Fuck the people. Or better yet, let's go to another street."

She hugged me while i cried. She told me how she had the same problem, and Ne-el had to deal with it. She explained the way it felt. We both tried to put into words why it felt so good, why it was such a breath of relief. She took a look at what was beneath the hairbands.

"That's nothing compared to what i used to do, trust me."

We're similar in many ways - she was raped at thirteen, and i was molested. We were both taken advantage by the older crowds we hung out with, because we were so young, and still so physically and mentally appealing. She's a more mature, more experienced, more confident and vivid and friendly version of me. I admire her for what she is - she's admired by men and women alike, and outshines both genders in her own way. I feel dull around her because she's so bright. But at the same time, she's so friendly, and so giving that it sometimes doesnt make sense.

We listened to music as she drew me a picture of the way she sees me - an angel with burnt wings, and a weak arm holding a very heavy weight. There's an eye above her, crying tear after tear into a glass vial - and behind that eye is a ray of hope in the sunrise. I thought about it. I'm not exactly an angel - and from what you read in this blog, you'll know there's little that's angelic about me. But the three of them insist that i'm beautiful on the inside, and i guess there's no harm in letting them continue to believe it.

By the time the men had returned from their shopping, i had collected myself up enough to be around people again. The first thing Wessam did was grab my arm and pull me away again. My insides churned and i could barely think. "I'm gonna talk to you for a second," he said harshly.

"You're not supposed to be speaking to me," i said as i struggled to keep up with him.

"I'm not gonna speak to you! I'm gonna tell you what's about to happen. Listen - i'm not gonna speak to you anymore and i'm not gonna know you anymore, because you'd have to be crazy to do this to yourself. You're gonna kill yourself one day and i dunno how i'm gonna deal with that - so finish it off yourself."

"What the hell does that mean?" I was getting pissed off myself.

"I dunno what that means!" he said, since it seems he couldnt bring himself to say he's done with me. "All i know is that you have to be crazy and something has to be fucked up inside your head for this to happen! You're not normal, baby, and i can't deal with that! So just don't say one more word to me, ever!"

Melanie came to save the day, thank god. "Can i interrupt for a second?"

Then the real arguing began, as she screamed at him, and he screamed at both her and  me, and i watched, not knowing exactly what to do.

"HOW OLD ARE YOU? HOW OLD ARE YOU?" She had to shout over his raised voice.

"I'm fucking twenty one!" he said.

"And how old is she?" She asked.

"She's fucking sixteen!"

"So who's taking care of who? And who's living with the mistakes you both made? Who's suffering from everything that's happened? Who's shoulders are the weight falling on? Not yours!"

"I'm taking care of her! You cant tell me i'm not giving you everything i can, supporting you in every way, trying to take the load off your back!" he said to me.

"She knows that and i know that, but right now, more than ever, she needs you! She doesnt need you to say you're never gonna speak to her again! She doesnt need you to turn your back on her, too. She has been through more than any of us have in the past four months!"

"I was put in jail! I spent two nights there! I didnt know where i was gonna go and what i was gonna do!"

"You were nineteen! And it was your own damn fault in the first place for doing drugs on the streets! You cant compare it to everything that everyone's putting her through right now!"

God, it was getting chaotic. "I'm gonna take her away for a second," she said angrily, "so excuse me."

She pulled me away from them, down the street. "Look, everything is gonna calm down. I went through the same thing with Ne-el and eventually he came through and dealt with it." We stopped on the road. "As for right now, you look like you're about to drop dead. So take this." She placed a red pill in my hand. I knew exactly what it was - it was the pill that wessam, and his friends, and melanie and her boyfriend were all addicted to. It was the pill that destroyed his back, made it hurt every day. It was the pill that he quit after he met me, because he wanted to know that his feelings for me were real. It was the pill he told me, over and over, to never, ever take.

"I... he'll kill me if he finds out, and he'll know just by looking at me that i'm  high on it."

"Just take it. You need it right now, you're not gona stick with it and you're not gonna take it forever. It's just for right now."

So i did, just because i felt like every second i spent awake and alive was torture, and even in sleep there was no escape from what was going to happen. I took one half and she told me to keep the other for later. When we returned to the square, the men were having their own conference.

"You should support her, not chastise her, in a time like this," melanie said when they both returned.

"Okay, i cant even look at her hands right now," he said.

"Well she's your girlfriend man, look at her face instead. She's pretty, isn't she?"

"I can't look at her," he said, "I'm fucking disgusted."

"You're disgusted?"

"Yeah, i'm disgusted! Fuck, i'm disgusted!"

"That's the worst thing you can say, man." And she took my wrist and kissed it herself. I was suddenly extremely relieved that she was around - she made everything better.

And then another argument ensued - this time Ne-el was involved, and all three of them yelled at each other in a blabber of arabic that i didn't understand, and they pointed at me while they screamed at each other. I placed my head in my hands. It was all just too hard, and i was starting to get high.

All of a sudden melanie was standing and they were getting ready to go. As Melanie and Ne-el trailed ahead, wessam pulled me suddenly towards him, and gave me a hug so strong i could feel my ribs cracking and my lungs closing. I think it was supposed to be painful. His eyes were watery, but he refused to cry. We spent the entire walk to the studio talking about what's going on, why i did it and why he was angry. When we arrived, we all sat together in the patio, with yet another conference.

"Kiss her wounds, don't be disgusted by them," Ne-el said. "Trust me, melanie did a lot worse to herself than lynn is doing now."

"But... come on... what i told her yesterday can't be a good enough reason to do that."

"It's not just that," melanie said, "it's the fact that it's all piling up on her, again and again, and there's no control over the situation."

Eventually he could smile at me, and hold my hand, and kiss my forehead like he used to, but with more intensity. He could look at the wounds calmly, he could ask what i used to cut myself, he could press his lips against the scabs with more empathy than disgust.

"What has happened in the past few months?" I asked when we were getting cigarettes alone together. "They physically battered me again and again - they told me our son was just a tiny, disfigured, disgusting blob of a creature, that rotted inside my womb and made me miss more school than necessary. They took away the freedom to see you. They constantly threatened to put us in jail. They accused me of things i didnt do. They made the grief worse. They were emotionally abusing me, too. They ripped him out of my womb with a D&C, they lied to me about the price and said it was twice as expensive as it really was - they killed me slowly, but not softly. They wiped my son off the face of the earth, with no name, no memorial, no acceptance and no love allowed - only bitter shame."

"And now they're trying to take us away from each other, too. They're trying to destroy you, and destroy me. Jail, rehab, ostracision from my family... damn."

He cried with me. I felt closer to him than i ever have before, and i let him squeeze me so hard i couldnt breathe while he let my tears stain his shirt. He couldn't stop apologizing for everything he said before - and even long after i'd forgiven him for his first reaction, he couldnt forgive himself.

I found, by the end of the day, that there's a timeline of reactions for one that really, truly loves you. First it's rage, so uncontrollable that even words come without an ounce of restraint. Then it's silence, and they put you on a long, long guilt trip. Then they question themselves, wonder if it's their fault, if they didn't give you enough. Then, they talk it out, fully, calmly, and completely. Then they regret everything they first said, to the point where they can't stop apologizing. And then, they wind up closer to you than they were before, and more willing to share the suffering.

When my parents discovered my cutting the first time, they were just disgusted. They labeled me sick and crazy, behaved as if it was a burden to share living space with me, and left it at that. There was nothing more to it. No effort to find out what caused it. No consideration. And now, they are the ones who cause it.

I dont even care if they see the marks on my wrists. It used to be so important that they don't find out, two years ago. Now, it barely matters at all. All I have is this sense that since they are carefully plotting out the way to tear me to pieces, i should at least have ownership of my own body. If they ask me, i'll say "Fuck you, my skin and blood is not your business," and leave it at that.

The next day, wessam and i went to his house, after waiting half an hour for his brothers to leave. It was empty. I saw his mother and father's wedding picture - she was cute, but not striking. Considering how judgemental she and her sisters were to their son's girls, saying "she's so ugly!" or "she's not good enough for him" or "she should go get a nose job!" i'd expect them to be incredibly beautiful, for all the credit they give themselves. Wessam is the best looking out of all his cousins and his brothers, i've found. His cousin's girlfriends are usually much better looking than they are in the first place, so why would their mothers be such bitches? Wessam's mom especially. She's the first woman i've known who thought i wasn't pretty enough, whether it was for their sons, for all the credit people give me, or anything at all.  I haven't even met her, and shes going crazy over the way i look. She saw one picture, which was relatively bad in the first place - and everybody knows that they have to meet me in person to really know what i look like.

Appearance shouldn't even matter in the first place. But considering his mom is such a superficial bitch, i'd have to spend at least an hour getting ready before i'd even think about meeting her.

Both our mothers are screwed up in different ways - but at least wessam's actually cares about him.

That day was the first time we could enjoy the new closeness, anyways. He peeled off the hairbands, along with the rest of my clothes. We spent two hours in complete and total bliss, showing each other a side of ourselves that nobody else gets to see, feeling things that only we can feel. The stormclouds were approaching, but for right then, we had some time to fully enjoy the beauty of what we have, and i know exactly what i'm saying when i profess that i would give up everything for him. Nothing in life matters if you dont have someone to share it with.

It's more than just bliss or intoxication. I've been in love before- dont think i lack experience. People often make the mistake of believing we're infatuated, and nothing more.  It's nothing like that. I live and breathe for him, and he lives and breathes for me. We belong to each other - not to ourselves. People who know us well say that theres an energy they can feel just by being in the same room as us. I'm not his ornament and he's not my god. He's a human being, flaws and all, and i'm a human being, flaws and all. Both of us have quite a bit more flaws than most, actually. But we improve each other - he compliments who i am as i compliment who he is. There is only equality in our relationship. We can scream at each other for three days straight and know it will improve things for us in the end.

Tarek and i spent some time talking about love. He's 32, exactly twice my age,  but even he gained some clarity within situations with his own woman, by talking to me about love, and how it should be.

Love isn't a permanent honeymoon, a permanent, joyful laughter and giddyness - it's not running through fields of flowers and singing songs to each other and all that bullshit.  It's finding someone who knows you better than you know yourself, who fits so well into you that your blood becomes his blood, and your hearts switch places in each other's chests, and it's a companionship that becomes so personal it can only exist between you two.

I found that when i was fifteen, and i began to feel it less than two months later, when i was sixteen. We already agreed that our parents are our past, and we are our future - and we'd have to be complete and total idiots to give each other up.

And i know i wont give him up - without a doubt. To give my mother what she wants would be a basic suicide. His mother has returned from Yemen, so any time my mom decides to meet her, things could go to bust. The razor has become my  new addiction while i'm off cannabis - i'm going so insane that i'm slitting myself several times a day. I feel like it's the only thing i can do. It's a sickness.

I know the more i do it, the more power my parents are ignorantly acquiring over me. But somehow, i can't stop. If nothing else in this world is under my control, at least my wrists still are.

Lynn, I don't even know what to say, except that you have a genuine gift for words that not a lot of people your age have. In sharing the story of your life - as it happens - you are sharing YOU, and that's a rare thing. Many people talk about extraneous things; things that don't impact their lives. Thankyou for sharing your LIFE with us...

Lynn, I'm worried about you. You do have a genuine gift for words, but you are in danger of wasting your gift. Your life seems out of control - taking drugs, getting kicked out of school, getting pregnant. Do you know where you are going to? You need some stability in your life - and some good, trustworthy friends, not ones that offer you drugs when you are feeling down. Lynn, for your own sake, get your life back in order.... Maybe you can start by getting back in to school, and dropping the drugs...

Kareem, the only thing i can say is that i have great friends who are always there for me and who i can trust more than anything. Smoking weed is less of a danger than alcohol, and that one pill was something she knew i needed to keep myself in a tolerable state of mind. I had a miscarriage, yeah, but it was with my fiance - and it was a small mistake that led to a big dilemma. There's a lot of kids who would be angry with their parents for stupid reasons - but mine genuinely havent been my parents for a long, long time. I would still be in school right now if they'd left me alone, rather than using my mistake as a reason to make every living moment hell. I only got kicked out for failing two classes, and i only failed two classes because they'd made waking hours torture. My school is a high-profile private school, not a public place that would only expel their students for violence or drugs. I'll be going to a less strict school in the fall, but right now i'm taking a break for some mental recovery that, quite obviously, my parents wont give me. I know exactly where i'm going to, and i know what i want to do with my life, and i know who i can and can't trust. I probably know a lot more than you think. This post is a bad representation - but if you went farther back into my other posts you'd see that i'm in better hands with my fiance than i am with my parents, and my gift of writing is, in no way, going to waste, and i absolutely do not need new, trustworthy friends.

I hope you are right Lynn, but I'm still worried about you. Are these friends really reliable - if so they should be encouraging you to think about your future, not pressing drugs on you at present. How much do you really know about them? You say that your boyfriend has been in jail for drugs, and that your girlfriend gave you a drug that they were all addicted to - one that damaged your boyfriends back. Do you even know what it was, and what effect it may have on your health? You mention that they are all older than you. They should know better. You are playing with fire, girl, and your friends are encouraging it.

I know exactly what kind of pill it was. It's called Tramadol, it comes in different colors and sizes, it's a strong painkiller usually used on cancer patients. The only physical effects are long term (taking the pill almost daily for several years), and the long term usage causes lack of flexibility in the spine, as well as chronic depression, if the user was on the pill to escape from a hard life. My fiance, not boyfriend, used to be a druggie, taking that pill every day, but he stopped everything right after he met me. Just because they take a pill to feel happy with such fucked up lives of ours does not mean they are bad people and they're not pushing me forward with my future and trying to help me in my situation - that's the common mistake that everyone makes. These pills induce a comforting, happy feeling, like an antidepressant but stronger. It's not a physically addictive pill, only psychologically addictive. And i only wanted to take it once because we had a long night ahead of us and i wouldn't last the coming fights without an assistant. You can't tell me what they are and aren't doing if you don't know them - they constantly tell me i have to finish high school, which i have plans to do, and my fiance and i are helping each other build up towards a life we can live together, which includes hard studying and my dedication to writing. They're all older than me, yeah, but my mind is on the same level as theirs. Just because i'm sixteen doesn't mean i'm an airhead who doesnt know what she's getting into. By taking one pill, i'm hardly playing with fire. And as for who they are and how much i know about them, i know everything about my fiance, from top to bottom, left right and center. I know mostly everything about the other two. It's wrong to make judgements without knowing the full story - and even here you can't really know the full story. You can only know what i feel like writing.

Lynn, you are playing with fire, and your friends are fuelling it. I assume you have checked up on Tramadol on the web. This is what it says "Important information about tramadol
You should not take tramadol if you have ever been addicted to drugs or alcohol.
Seizures (convulsions) have occurred in some people taking tramadol. You may be more likely to have a seizure while taking tramadol if you have a history of seizures or head injury, a metabolic disorder, or if you are taking certain medicines such as antidepressants, muscle relaxers, or medicine for nausea and vomiting. Seek emergency medical attention if you think you have used too much of this medicine. A tramadol overdose can be fatal. Overdose symptoms of a tramadol overdose may include drowsiness, shallow breathing, slow heartbeat, extreme weakness, cold or clammy skin, feeling light-headed, fainting, or coma. Tramadol may be habit-forming and should be used only by the person it was prescribed for. Tramadol should never be given to another person, especially someone who has a history of drug abuse or addiction. Keep the medication in a secure place where others cannot get to it. Tramadol can cause side effects that may impair your thinking or reactions. Be careful if you drive or do anything that requires you to be awake and alert. Do not stop using tramadol suddenly, or you could have unpleasant withdrawal symptoms such as anxiety, sweating, nausea, diarrhea, tremors, chills, hallucinations, trouble sleeping, or breathing problems. Talk to your doctor about how to avoid withdrawal symptoms when stopping the medication. Do not crush the tramadol tablet... can cause life-threatening side effects, overdose, or death.

So, it is dangerous and physically addictive. Is the woman who gave it to you really your friend or your pusher?

You need some real friends Lynn, who will look out for your best interests and tell you the truth - even when you don't want to hear it.

LMAO! i didnt check it up on the web. I have never been physically or mentally addicted to anything, and i know exactly what is wrong with it. Lol, she gave me one pill and you're throwing a temper tantrum. Who the hell are you to read a few posts and then tell me that my friends are not real friends, not telling me the truth, and that i am 'in danger of wasting my gift.' LOL. I wouldn't be such a great writer if i hadn't been through so many good, as well as bad, experiences. They tell me the truth, they tell me when i'm wrong, and yes, two of my friends take these pills on a regular basis. That does not mean that, just because she gave me something for a hard day ( the same way your friends may take you to a bar to get drunk on a hard day - not that i know your friends, but i'm assuming most men will do this) she is not a real friend. Don't tell me who i should and shouldn't hang out with. We're young, we're having fun, and we mean a lot to each other. To deny that she's my friend and call her my pusher just because she offered me one tablet (it was for COMFORT, not just for the experience or to get me addicted, and she and i made it clear to each other that it would be the only time i take it). The next day my stomach did hurt a little, but that was all. By habit forming, they mean psychologically addictive - as in something that they begin to rely on to relieve their physical or emotional pain. Don't tell me i'm playing with fire when you know almost nothing about my intentions for life, or my relationships with people such as these, or their intentions towards me. They have all been there for me through every single hardship ever since i've met them, so giving me something for comfort and relaxation (which is a legal medicine,only on perscription) demeans their good influence on me.
Now, if you want to justify that i'm playing with fire in the overdose dangers of this tramadol pill, i'll tell you something - i'm on several different kind of medications, and al

and all of them can be combined safely with tramadol. At the same time, i can have a lethal overdose on all of those medications. Panadol, tylenol, viagra, aspirin, antidepressants - all of those things can be overdosed on, and all of those things can be lethal. The only difference between that and tramadol is in its strength and it's ability to cause an enjoyable high.
If that's not enough for you to understand, then that's your problem. If you have any other reasons for accusing me of playing with fire, and accusing my friends of fueling it, then i'd like to hear them. As far as i'm concerned, one tramadol pill isn't a good enough reason for shit-talking all my friends and telling me they're pushers and they're unreliable.
If it has anything to do with the miscarriage, you might as well shut up then and there. You don't know the full situation, and all i'll tell you is that it is an accident that can happen at any time to anybody, with a broken condom, pills that failed to work, bad spermicide, anything. I would still be in school, despite that happening, if they hadn't done everything they could to make concentration impossible, at home, in my bed, at school, alone, except with the people who genuinely cared. Don't even mention those two, because you know almost nothing about what happened.
As for my friends, i will only say it one more time, but they are real friends, and i know that they are real friends. Giving me something for comfort and pain relieving does not, in any way, justify that she's unreliable. You think i havent had clean friends before? I have. I had five of them. They didn't drink, smoke, do weed. They were also all guys, and they were immature, self-centered, lacking in complexity, and selfish. And, they all, one by one, fell in love with me to the point where we all wound up hating each other. I've been around much more than you think. I'm not a little child and i'm not stupid - i have never been spoken to as condescendingly as you are spe

speaking to me now, and without even meeting me once. I have friends in their early twenties, late twenties, and even mid thirties, and all of them treat me with equal respect because they know my mind is on an equal level (plus, every single one of them has learned something from having only 1 conversation with me). You're free to say and believe whatever you want, but with adequate and rational reasons, and with that freedom should come a mind that's open enough to let me justify myself. So open up your mind - they are good people, and a single pill does not affect that.

I hate your parents. And I know how you feel about losing your son. I too lost mine in my womb [I never fully understood why] and up until now, it's been two years...I still can't get over it. Perhaps I never will...

I love your writing , by the way. And the way you put your thoughts and feelings into words. I wish you happiness, Lynn! And only the best. Only the best.