Helena jerked back from her thoughts. What was she thinking about? Was that really her thinking about something like that? Even in her worst time of life hadn’t she thought about it. Was that really what she was becoming? She asked herself and could only nod.

The building was old. Rusty, long standing metal splinters were poking out of the wall where probably former windows had been and dusty pieces of broken glass were laying on the ledge . Helena looked out for a particularly pointed and sharp looking piece of brocken glass.

She had no idea, why those things were here. Maybe the person in charge thought that nobody would be able to reach through the bars, so it wouldn’t be necessary to remove it. But in the end she didn’t care about the why and whereabout’s.

When she detected one that fitted her, she squeezed her slender arm through the bars and picked it up. Slowly she pulled her arm back out from between the bars. She admired it’s size and shape as it layed effortlessly in her hand and let herself slip down to the cold floor. She landed gently on her feet and then turned slightly to her left and picked up one of her washcloths.

Quietly she made her way back to her bed and made sure not to wake up her „roomie“. She climbed up easily, lifting one feet after the other and crawled over the bed until she reached the end and sat down cross legged, leaning her back against the wall in the corner.

Tears welled up in her beautiful deep eyes when she thought about what she was going to do. Helena placed the piece of broken glass with her trembling hand over her tender wrist and before she let the sharp edge glide pleasurably over her skin, she looked up towards the sky and closed her eyes for brief moment as if she wanted to ask somebody for forgiveness.

She opened up her eyes, directed her gaze back to her wrist and pressed the razor blade-like object deep into her flesh, piercing tissue and veins. She injured her appearance in hope to kill her insides.

She let a loud gasp escape between her lips at the excruciating pain. Helena’s lifeblood freed itself immediately from it’s own prison and started to cry down her arm with it’s bloody tears. It was like her internal life was crying with her. She quickly stopped the red fluid with her washcloth and held it tightly against her arm.

She continued to harm herself a few more times until her arm was numb with pain. Her washcloth was almost drenched in blood. Eventually the flood stopped and she laid down.

She felt weak. Her body didn’t have the strength to budge an inch anymore. She was cold and the only thing she wanted right now was peace.

And Helena’s only torment at this point was that she didn’t know if she would find it.