Note: Okay, guys, I've had several requests to do a one-shot on Mimi cutting. So here's where she started...Of course, I do not condone cutting in any way. If you or someone you know cuts, seek medical attention immediately.
Note 2: I've had a lot of fun doing this story, but this is going to be the last one-shot. I've got a lot of other stories I'm trying to get up and I'm afraid I'm running out of steam on this one. So I figure, let's go out with "one blaze of glory" instead of just throwing out bad stories. Thanks for all the reviews. If you liked this story, please check out my other stories too. Thanks! :)
Mimi sat in the dressing room of the club. She hated doing this. One of the girls, Mimi couldn't remember her name, had helped her shoot up a few times now to work up the nerve to get out there. Benny had gotten her high two months ago with his roommate's stash. He didn't realize she was still doing it. Mimi slicked on some eyeliner and sighed, staring at her own sad reflection.
"Meems, you okay?" Candy asked.
"Fine. Just fucking fine," she said.
Candy glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. "You hate doing this, don't you?"
"I just…it just gets old, you know? The leering, the grabbing, the…everything…"
"I know what you mean. Listen, you wanna know what I do? What helps me forget it all?"
"I've tried smack, Candy."
"Nah, this don't cost a thing, sugar."
Mimi looked up, intrigued. Candy glanced over her shoulder again and grabbed a pair of scissors out of the drawer. She watched in amazement as Candy slid off her blue sleeves and pushed the scissors against her forearm. When a thin trickle of blood flowed out beneath the scissors, she sighed and set the scissors down. Mimi watched as she grabbed a handful of tissues and wiped off the scissors. A few more tissues were pressed against the cut on her arm. When the bleeding had stopped, she tugged the sleeve back on.
"How exactly is that going to help me?"
"Because, see, the physical pain of it overrides the emotional bullshit. If you're focused on your arm hurting, for example, you're not thinkin' about that boyfriend that pissed you off or the fight with your parents or whatever."
Mimi bit her lip and reached for the scissors. Candy grabbed her hand.
"Don't go too deep though. You wanna forget, not kill yourself."
Mimi nodded and grabbed the scissor. She looked at her forearm, already covered in track marks. Seemed as good a place as any. Mimi took a deep breath and pressed the edge of the scissor down. She gasped at the pain, but smiled. It did make her forget, at least for that instant. Candy smiled and handed her a box of tissues. Mimi wiped the scissors clean and handed them back.
"No problem, girl."
Mimi took a handful of tissues and pressed them to her arm, noting that the pressure hurt more and brought more relief. This was definitely cheaper than smack. And almost as effective. On her way home that night, Mimi stopped at the convenience store and bought a pack of razor blades. She smiled to herself as the streetlights glinted off the silver of the blades.
"My new best friends," she mumbled to herself.
Mimi paused in the alleyway and opened the package. She pulled one blade out and added a second cut near the one from earlier in the evening. When she saw the blood, she realized she didn't have anything to clean it up with. Oh well, she thought. The pain was great and she didn't give a damn if it stained her clothing.