Biography of a Teen [Wendy]

Wendy Hanson

15 years old

Lets get to the point already. I'm sitting here in my isolated room, no windows, a very thin mattress, and a single pillow for me to cry my eyes out into. My name is Wendy Hanson, I'm 15 years old, and razor to wrist is my escape. I don't think life is that bad honestly, but everyone has their ways to release anger. Some drink, some fight, some scream, some yell, I however prefer inflicting damage upon myself. I don't know how it started, and I don't know why I choose to do it. But either way it helps me, and its my addiction. The feeling of cold metal upon my rosy skin, puncturing a small wound and slowly gliding horizontal to the other side of my wrist isn't pleasurable but sure is distracting. That is why I choose to do it I believe. To take my mind off all of the current problems taking place. To focus on nothing but the throbbing pain in my left forearm. Life I said its my escape, my drug, my life.

I guess this is where I should explain everything that has gotten me to where I currently am. Like I said My name is Wendy Hanson and I'm a sophomore in High school. Life at home hasn't been terrible or bad by any means. I have a mom who loves me, an overprotective father, and a love-strucked brother. I'm the baby of the family so everyone feels the need to constantly watch over me, like everyone is out to hurt me. I guess they were in for it when they discovered the person who wants to hurt me the most lies solely within myself.

Everything that happened to me, that started this whole cutting addiction is regular problems in a everyday ordinary life. Like I said though its how I release anger, it doesn't take much to just obtain that one cut. It doesn't take much at all.

Really the first time I tried it started when me and my best friend of 4 years decided to go our seperate ways. Her name was Veronica, Vern for short. Ugly nickname I know but its what she liked so I respected it. The whole split up between us I could tell months in advance was coming. She'd start to hang with different people over the summer between our 8th and 9th grade years. And everytime I would call her she would make up some pathetic excuse to talk to me. That last phone call between us killed everything inside of me. I could remember it so easily and it burned in my mind for months. Even when I'm all grown I know that this memory will never fade. It was paved in cement on my mind.

The night seemed to be a long one. Mom and Dad had already gone to bed, and Jacob my brother was out with his girlfriend Thalia. I was all alone downstairs watching the beginning of toy story. School was only two weeks ago and I would become a high schooler. Nervousness had built inside of me all summer long, and now that it was almost here I felt as if my stomach was about to burst. I opened one of the windows near the sofa and a cold wind immediately erupted through the windows sending my light blonde hair swirling around my skull. Stars were everywhere as I peered out of the window. I could make out only a single one of the many constellations. Orion, my favorite. Only reason I could pin-point this was simply because of the belt. A simple diagonal line of 3 stars gave it away so easily. So simple yet so extravagant. Everytime I saw it, it took my breath away, it was absolutely stunning. My phone rang and I dashed from the window to quickly retrieve it. The caller Id showed up as my best friend Vern's number. I was taken aback for this was the first time she had called me all summer. She had been so distant and I had started to worry. This took all the worry away. A wide smile took place on my face. I couldn't seem to hide my giddyness as I answered the phone.

"Hello?!" my eagerness came to be a little embarrasing.

"Wendy?" she sounded low, my smile faded a little bit. "Do you mind if we talk for a few minutes?"

"Not at all." I said. "It seems as if we haven't spoken all summer." that was the truth but I didn't want to be too blunt.

"yeah sorry about that." her apology wasn't sincere. "that's actually sorta the reason I wanted to talk to you."

"What's going on?" my fear from earlier seemed to overwhelm the previous happiness. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

"I just...just think" she paused a minute. Tears began to well in my eyes. "I don't know if this whole us being best friends thing is working out." That was all it took. I burst into sobs and I could barely manage my next words.

"Wh-Why?" it was all I could get out but it was enough.

"We're just going to high school now and I want to start over fresh." her tone had grown more calm. "Do you understand what I mean? We'll always be friends its just we're two completely different people." I couldn't really believe what she was saying. She was dumping me as a friend because she wanted to move on to bigger and better things. I wanted to go off. Throw every obscenity I could think of at her. How could she do this to me? She knew I was alone without her. Yeah we were different people but that's what was so amazing about us. 'Opposites attract'. That was our motto.

"No its fine, I-I've been feeling the same." it was complete bullshit, but I didn't want to sound like I needed to have her in my life. "Sorry about the crying, I was just trying to persuade myself that this wasn't how I felt. It's completely ok. I wish nothing but the best from you."

"Really? That means a lot Wendy. Same to you. Maybe we'll have some classes together." she sounded relieved, and almost happy.

"Yeah, bye." I couldn't take it anymore. I slammed the phone on the receiver and sprinted up the stairs. The bathroom light was still on as I dashed towards it shutting the door locking it behind me. I looked up into the mirror to see someone I've never seen before. A distraught red-faced hateful bitch. I hated Veronica I hated her! Without her I was alone and she absolutely didn't even care. As I studied the mirror as closely as before I could see the puffyness in my cheeks, and the vein that showed up on my forehead. I looked around the bathroom just surveying my surroundings. Thats when I saw it, a small razor on the corner of the bathtub. The one my brother uses when he shaves. I walked across the bathroom to retrieve it. I don't know why but it seemed like the longest walk of my life. Every step got heavier and heavier. My breath seemed to grow more and more shallow. Tears burned as they streaked down my face. And the razor felt like it weighed a ton as I lifted it to my wrist. And with one quick motion I pulled the razor across my skin filling the cut with blood that fell slowly down my skin.

And that's how this addiction started. All because of my lonely, empty, pathetic life. It became a daily thing, and I hid it pretty well. Not until one day at a pool party did my mom find out. I stripped down to my bathing suit and right before I hit the water mother spotted my wrists. Immediately she ran to me screaming and crying. It was all melodramatic if you ask me. But I guess I would react the same if my daughter did what I did. Within days they had shipped me off to some rehabilitation school called RSTT and here's where I stand, a depressing place for pathetic teens who just can't seem to get a grip on society and I've been placed with them. Wow, what a disgrace. Life is just fucking peachy right now, and it better get better a whole hell of a lot sooner. My name is Wendy Lynn Hanson and I'm a cutter.