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Dear Chloe,

Damn, you’re so weak; you broke your arms and legs.

And where were you all week?

We missed torturing you.

And I see you’ve lost some weight.


I slammed you against the locker.

You let out a whimper and I heard a sob.

Did you cry?

I then noticed the bandage on your other arm.

Wait, you’re really using the blades?

I tried to take off your hoodie.

But you ran away. I followed you till you were in the bathroom.

I heard loud sobs.

Were you crying?

I know I said that I’d love to see you cry.

But somehow it felt wrong.

The slam was only playful.

Why am I saying this?



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