She stared her left arm. It had four long cuts and one deep bleeding slash. The sight of dripping blood gave her a queer sensation. Her arm was hurting. The feeling of new tingling pain was overwhelming. For a while, she forgot what was tormenting her. The sour memories and harsh realities ….. such thoughts were so painful that they had cut her to the soul.

She held her arm and closed her eyes. The pain of this bleeding arm is better than the pain of my bleeding soul. She said to herself.

He said nothing. Silence said it all. His uncaring manner irked her to no end.

She promised herself to not even let him come near her heart and assumed he would never make it so far. But like a warrior, he besieged the fortress and marked his territory.

He stood up and walked away. She realized that he had taken a piece of her with him. But then she shook her head to clear her thoughts, because it was she who let him in her.

She studied her reflection in the mirror and recalled what he had said. He admired beauty and had always been lavish with compliments.

She broke the mirror. She was just one of his beauties.

He was tracing patterns of crisscross lines on her palm. She looked at him and wondered which special line made her so lucky to get someone like him.

She felt her pulses fluttering in rhythm.

"Teacher, you look ummm…… nothing," the girl stopped when I looked at her with my wet, swollen eyes.

"Yes, do you wanna say something?"

"No, all I wanted to say that your eyes look pretty," she seemed intimidated, I am a strict teacher.

"But you look sad today," another one blurted out. "Are you sad, teacher?" the sincerity of her tone filled the air. Everyone looked at me and I could read the same question in their eyes. Their innocence and naivety engulfed me and all miserable feelings disappeared.

"Not anymore." I smiled.