The date went nicely, so when we called a cab I don’t know what possessed me. I turned to her and said, “I wish I didn’t need a pill to keep from wanting to kill myself.”
She looked at me but not with a terrified look like I expected. Her eyes went wide and she leaned close and whispered, “Let’s do it. Together.”
My heart skipped, but I mistook her meaning until I saw in the heartbeat of the passing street lights that she was lifting her skirt to show me the jagged pink scars on the inside of her thigh.
(“Spilled pills_2” by ano lobb, CC-by-Attribution)
