It started with a paperclip.
Bent and twisted between her fingers during science class, Zariah didn't even realize what she was doing until she saw the small red line on her thumb. It wasn't deep, just a scratch. But it stung—and it cut through the numb. That night, in her room, the same thought circled her mind like a vulture: what if I just did it again?
So she did.
It wasn't planned. There was no dramatic music, no crying. Just quiet. Just… stillness. And for a moment, the noise in her head went mute. No voices, no racing thoughts, no endless worry. Just her, the sting, and the silence.
The next morning, she wore long sleeves. It wasn't even cold.
By the end of the week, Jasmine noticed something was off. "You've been acting weird lately," she said. "Did I do something?"
Zariah shook her head too quickly. "No, no, it's not you. I'm just tired."
The lie was automatic now. Like a habit she couldn't break.
At school, her grades didn't budge. She still answered questions. Still took notes. Still nodded when teachers praised her focus. But no one saw how she clenched her fists until her nails left little half-moon marks in her palms. Or how her stomach dropped every time she walked into a room full of people. Every hallway felt too tight. Every laugh felt like it was aimed at her. She stopped meeting Jasmine's eyes. She started eating lunch in the library again, saying she had "catch-up work."
She hated lying.
But she didn't know how to tell anyone the truth: that the dark thoughts were louder now. That sometimes, her body was in a room, but her mind was floating somewhere else—somewhere hollow and gray.
She stared at her journal but didn't write. Not because she had nothing to say, but because the words felt like they'd choke her if she tried.
On a Thursday afternoon, she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, gripping the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back—empty-eyed and tired.
"I don't know how to stop," she whispered to herself.
And for the first time in a long time, Zariah was afraid she wouldn't be able to.