Dear Diary,

I'm sorry about yesterday's letter. I'll admit it. I was cutting.

I used my safety scissors to do it.

They're not vey safe any more.

They smell like blood too.

I had to wear long sleeves even though it was 109 F outside. Someone grabbed my wrist and slammed it against my locker. My cuts opened up. I was on the floor slowly losing conscious as a pool of blood began to form.

The last thing I remember was someone spitting in my face. So I ask you again, Diary, what is wrong with me?

I hope you answer soon.

<3,

Rosie