Relapse

Danny smirked as he dragged the sharp, thin blade across his thigh. Before Ivy could even react, deep crimson flooded from the gaping line of separated flesh her husband created.

“Your turn” Danny coaxed maniacally. Ivy tried her best to maintain a relaxed demeanor as her thoughts sent her reeling. A knot grew in the pit of her stomach as she reluctantly received the blade from Danny. She hadn’t inflicted wounds upon herself in over two years, and perhaps if she were sober, she wouldn’t have for even longer. A troubled and dreary Ivy placed the blade gently on her wrist. She dragged the edge across her skin in several short lines, creating superficial overlapping separations in her skin. Her sad, empty grey eyes connected with Danny’s for acknowledgment.

“No...,” he uttered with irritation. “You have to do it harder. You have to make the cut deep! Deep enough for the blood to look black Ivy.” Danny’s demeanor became even more intense as he pressured Ivy to wound herself further. Afraid that he would become violent, Ivy nervously looked back at her leaking abrasions. Ivy’s gaze steadied as she swiftly ripped the blade across her arm with increasing force each time. She sliced her skin three times before finally tearing into her forearm hard enough to create a long, wide separation. In her inebriated state, Ivy looked at the wound in shock. She knew she went too far. Even though she was far from sober, Ivy realized just from the gory sight in front of her that she desperately needed stitches.

Even though Ivy’s wound was serious, she didn’t feel any pain. The mixture of alcohol and pills left her feeling numb and dizzy still, negatively impacting her judgement. In a delusional panic, Ivy threaded a small sewing needle with black string and began stitching up her own injury.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” exclaimed Danny in horror. “You need medical attention... you can’t fix that yourself, it will get infected!”

Ivy dismissed Danny’s concerns, after all he was the reason she injured herself in the first place. Piss off Danny, you never cared about me anyway, Ivy thought irritably. She continued to puncture her skin and became surprised as she still didn’t feel any pain while she made herself into her own make-shift sewing project. A third of the way sewn, Ivy began to fumble with the needle and struggle with the growing stiffness of the thread as warm, deep crimson gushed from her arm. She knew then she couldn’t sew herself back together on her own. Ivy didn’t like it, but she knew what she had to do.

Apprehensively, Ivy took out her phone and contacted her younger sister, Sara. Sara is going to be so angry, this isn’t the first time I’ve asked her to come to my rescue, Ivy realized with a grimace. Even so, I have no choice. I went too far this time.. I need help. With that thought, she opened her texts and began to plead with her little sister to come rescue her from herself once again.

Ivy: Sara, I know it’s four in the morning... but I’ve hurt myself badly and I really need your help

Sara: What? I’m sure it’s not that bad, send me a picture.

Ivy complied with Sara’s request and sent her a picture of the very large wound on her arm. She feared what Sara would think of her for creating such damage on her own body and anxiously awaited Sara’s reply. Before she knew it, Sara was calling Ivy. I hope she isn’t angry with me... With that thought, Ivy let out a short breath and answered the phone.

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