Seven Cuts

I’ve hidden myself in the attic but Matt manages to find me anyway. The embarrassing part is what he caught me doing. It’s my tenth birthday and I feel like I have the right to get away with things. At least I’m glad it wasn’t my mother or father who found me.
Matt looks at the contents of the old wooden box. “What is all this?”
I try to hide the box and palm the razorblade but it makes my hand bleed and Matt grabs a hold of that hand and wrenches the blade out from my fingers. I only let go because I know this is going to hurt him just as much as it’s hurting me.
“Andy, what’re you doing?”
“Can I please have it back?”
“No, you can’t have it back Andy! This is dangerous!”
“Please don’t tell mom and dad,” I beg.
Out of nowhere, I start to cry.
Matt stands there, speechless for a while under that big spider web that has been there forever, and then he walks towards me and hugs me. “Andy,” he says. “I’m not going to tell anyone. Just promise me you won’t do this again.”
“I promise,” I say, my face wet with tears that are staining Matt’s shirt.
I know even then that I don’t mean it. That it didn’t matter much if one blade was lost, there was plenty more where that came from. But I can tell Matt is concerned and I don’t want to worry him. I have been worrying him a lot lately. He’s been saving me from the bullies at school and doing everything in his power to make sure no one and nothing hurt me. Of course that only works half the time because the bullies are more active than Matt realizes. Even when my parents were together and different people, Matt was still a better parent to me than they were.
Matt drops the bloody blade and it falls to the floor. I take Matt’s hand and it’s cut and bleeding like mine. “I’m sorry,” I say, and start crying again.

Notes