A Typical Session :: essays research papers

Ronnie quietly walked into her bedroom and closed her door, locking it behind her. She turned on some music appropriate for the occasion "Am I reproach?" by Love Spit Love and "Perfect Day" by Lou Reed being her favorite background music during difficult times. Ronnie travel to her dresser and opened one of its many drawers. She pulled protrude an innocent-looking box of matches from a local candle store. After opening it, she took out a middling blood-stained cardboard pocket. Inside... A gleaming razorblade. Pulling the blade from its protective sheath, Ronnie sit on her bed. She took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and looked at her left forearm. It was annoyting harder and harder for her to lower her scars were not easy to pull down over, and neither were fresh scabs. Finding a suitable area, Ronnie braced herself and slowly dragged the blade across her skin. Immediately, a thinly line of blood streaked across her open forearm. Ronnie could feel backup man flowing through her body. How good it felt to roll in the hay How wonderful to pink slip all of her pent-up energy Eagerly, Ronnie made a second cut. indeed a third. And a fourth. Soon, she had rows and rows of thin red lines, each about ternary inches long, running down her arm. When she came to her inner elbow, she stopped. Ronnie sat and pondered for a moment. Should she, having run out of space on her forearm, make more cuts on the next crush area... her left ankle? Debating mentally, Ronnie finally decided against it. After youve cut an area, you cant cut there again for at least a week sequence the scabs heal. She needed to save her ankle in case she wanted to cut again in the next few days. The cutting done, Ronnie grabbed the box of Kleenex next to her bed. She pressed the tissues against the flow of blood coming from her arm. After several minutes, the bleeding stopped. Ronnie wrapped paper towels around her affected limb so she wouldnt get blood on her shirt an d secured the towels with Scotch tape.