a pulsing headache. Another wave of tears began as the self-loathing gnawed at my state with its range of insults and commentary that perpetuated the feeling of being alone in this world and how it would be best for everyone if I slipped a noose around my neck. Mostly reminding me of how I can barely stand living underneath this scarred skin and how I would appreciate total annihilation of my soul. Too much hate and emotional hurt for one soul to carry without exploding. That is when the craving for a blade on my skin reached its peak and the ground beneath my feet seized to hold. There was one way I only knew how to help myself from being buried by the darkness that was eager to consume me. Pain, self-inflicted pain. I fiercely butt the tree’s trunk with my forehead three times or so. It must have been a few minutes or so when something warm and moist fell on my forehead. I opened my eyes and above me the sun shone clearly through the bristling branches. Distant voices, the rambling of vehicles on the road across the garden and the coming and goings of students by the stone cobbled walkways from the dining hall leading to an array of places eased me into consciousness. My shirt felt soggy on my back and mosquitos and flies where buzzing over my body. I wiped my forehead with my fingers. Inspected them to find bird faeces mixed with my own blood. I felt my forehead and discovered I had a gash right in the middle of my forehead. I figured I must have knocked myself out from banging my head on the trunk like that. Then I stumbled to my feet, looked around and it seemed no one had noticed. I brushed the leaves and grass off my trousers and started walking to residence. “How did it go?” was Macxermillio’s greeting when I walked into my room. Macfearson was on the computer surfing the internet. Eyes on the screen, all he could do was to echo Macxermillio absently. “Um…” I tried to speak then Macxermillio interrupted, “What the fuck happened to your face?” Macfearson looked up from the laptop. “Did Jay hit you?” Darkly, he smiled. Macxermillio tittered. “What happened?” “New form of SP.” I walked to the mirror by the basin to inspect the wound, it was swelling and seeping. “I banged my head against a tree. Too upset.” “Did not go well then?” Macxermillio asked. “I don’t know.” “What did they do?” “They got to me. Showed them my scars.” “Why?” “Needed to shut them off.” “It worked?” I grabbed my towel on the rack beside me and started wiping the blood. “No. It only got worse so I went outside and did this.” “So nothing got done?” “Yet.” “So when?” “Supper. Perhaps.” “Okay.” Macxermillio exchanged a glance with Macfearson. He cleared his throat. “Do you wanna be left alone?” “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter if you are here anyway. Nothing I can’t do with you guys around except masturbating I guess.” Macfearson stood up from the chair and walked over to view the wound in the reflection. “Man, you are hyperventilating. Never seen you this upset in my life.” He peered deeper into the wound, narrowing his eyes. “I think you should cover it up.” “No. There is something about it.” I paused to think. “It’s a conversation starter.” Macfearson chuckled. “I guess so.” He turned Macxermillio. “ Macx, what do you think?” Macxermillio only laughed. A smile flickered on my face. “I’m gonna go for a walk to the shops now. I’ll see you guys later,” said Macxermillio, picking up his backpack from the floor. “Cool. See you later.” “You guys want anything?” Macfearson replied, “Can you get me a new lighter and pack of ciggies?” He nodded. “And you, Sandz?” “It’s Wednesday. Get me three beers.” “750s?” “Yes, please.” He left the room. Macfearson stared for a long time at the wound, clearly contemplating something. “What is it?” I asked. “Don’t