*this is a TRIGGER warning, as this piece contains suicidal ideation, and actions*

Red has many meanings. Anger, passion, violence, and love. “Red means I love you.” repeated in my head as the blade hovered over my skin. it repeated in my head as the red dripped down my fingertips and onto the tile floors. I watched as the blood stained the white of the cold floor, a smile creeping on my face. I sat for a while as blood dripped down my fingers before taking toilet paper, wiping the floor.

I hissed as the fabric rubbed against the wounds, my search for band aids becoming a success. It was painful as the band aids were laid upon my forearm, but it quickly subsided. I closed the cabinet, making my way into my room. I threw myself onto my bed, careful of the wounds, my eyelids suddenly heavy. my body felt loose as I settled into my bed, not bothering to shut off the lights. 

As much as my body pleaded with me to sleep, I just couldn’t. I cleaned, listened to music, drew and yet, I couldn't seem to sleep like I wish I could.

Finally, six o’clock came around. I climbed out of bed, feeling numb as I began to change my clothes, the action leaving me exhausted. I sat on the ground, phone in hand. I sat there until I realized I was late. I didn't bother brushing my hair or teeth, instead just leaving. a true crime podcast played as i drove, arriving at the field five minutes late. I grabbed my stuff, climbing over the small fence. I went through the motions, missing all my tosses. 

Tears welled up my eyes as Sabrina sent yet another glare as I messed up. I saw red. I wanted to scream and shout. God, I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to hurt her so bad. I stormed off the field when we were dismissed, not bothering to talk to anyone. 

I sat in my car, the school parking lot filling up around me. it was silent, but my head, God, my head was full of thoughts. They were so loud. So damn loud. The voices won’t shut up. Why in the hell won’t they shut up? I hadn't realized I was crying until the tears landed on my hands. I quickly wiped my eyes, putting my ear buds in as I began my short walk from my car to the school. 

It was first period and my day was already sh*t. I sat there as the class was loud and rowdy, yet I felt alone. So alone. I felt myself moving, I knew I was moving but I felt stuck. Life was moving around me, leaving me behind.

“Nadine! Wait up!” I turned around as Ollie ran up to me. God, Ollie was gorgeous. I had known her for three years and she was easily the prettiest girl I knew. Part of me aches when I see her or talk to her. Maybe I was jealous of her or maybe I was in love with her, I don't know. She could have any guy she wanted. She had the looks and the personality. Both things I lacked in.

“You ok?” God, can I be you? 

“Just dandy.” Far from dandy. I am so far from dandy. Can’t  you see that?

“Dude, he texted me!” Put a smile on your face, damnit. 

“That's great!” It was forced, I think she could tell but I didn't care. She began to go into detail as Eric Morris walked by. Now, Eric was my type. tall, kind, and a redhead. I followed his body as he passed, Ollie catching on.

“Seriously, Nadine? Eric Morris is a total *ss.” Ollie tried to reason with me, but I didn't want to hear it.

“He's nice to me, Ollie.” Ollie rolled her eyes and merely sighed. Ollie was never a fan of the guys or girls I fell for.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” I was already hurt. Eric Morris would never go for a girl like me. Nobody ever wanted me.

Ollie waved goodbye, breaking from me as she came across her classroom. I entered my own, ready for a long class of my thoughts taking control over me. Red means I love you. The reminder never went away. I lifted my sleeve to view the healing marks, a smile slipping onto my lips, yet the tears welling in my eyes contrasted the feeling in my gut. I laid my head on the desk, hoping if I fell asleep, I would never wake up.

It’s a Friday, so that means Friday night football. I hate football. I especially hate home games. Home games mean I have to perform, and I hate performing.

I arrived at the field already in costume, seeing the other members of my section getting our pom-poms ready. I began to help them, the four of us only stopping when we had to go practice. We hauled our flags up to the practice field, prepping for tonight.

When we finally sat down in the stands, we still had two poms to peel. Sabrina had both and once I had finished with my own, I turned to pick one up. “I can do this one, to get it done faster.”

“I got it.” Who knew a simple statement could hurt so much. Maybe it hurt because I had spent months with these girls and they held no respect for me. I sat there quietly, trying my hardest to hold back the tears. our section leader, Erika, came up and she and Sabrina left. That's when the dam broke. 

“I think she hates me.” as Harper, the only girl I seemed to get along with. I made my decision. 

“I'm quitting.” They looked appalled. They should be. They brought this upon themselves. Sabrina became livid.

“We couldn't have expected any less from you!”

“I put my heart and soul into this stupid, sh*tty sport. You don’t respect me! None of you respect me!” I didn’t wait for their responses, instead I stormed off, walking to my car in my stupid uniform, god, I hate this uniform.

So, here I am, sitting back on the tile floor. I am still in my white uniform. I think it’s ironic that I’m sitting here in a color that means innocence and purity as a color as dark as red begins to fall onto it. it moves out as it stains my uniform. Red means I love you. a sport I once loved, ruined, just like everything else in my life. 

Everyone has a limit to the pain they can physically handle. I've reached my breaking point. Now the cuts were deeper, more painful, more red. I didn't stop, no, not when it became numb or when the tears began to mix in. I only stopped to write this.

Don’t think of this as my goodbye note, but instead a “f*ck you” to the world. Now you know why I did it. You have my thirteenth reason. I hope those who read this know I'm not sorry. I hope that the people who hurt me get what they deserve and worse. screw all of you.

Now to the bottle that awaits me.

Screw you,

Nadine Clemens