Cassie swished around the water in the bathtub. She looked down at her body. She knew she was technically underweight, with absolutely no fat on her body, bones poking through the fragile looking skin. But even though she knew that was a fact, she just didn't see it. All she saw was fat. And that was one of the reasons she was about to do this.

She picked up the blade and took it to the back of her wrist where she had cut herself so many times in the past. This knife was sharp, sharper than any of her razor blades ever had been. She had barely put any pressure on the knife when blood flooded out in rivers. Cassie shivered, despite the warm water and flipped over her wrist to expose the pale, smooth skin where the veins were plainly visible.

Margaret Cassandra Cooper was Cassie's real name. She was named after her mother. Cassie sighed as she thought of her successful, thin, divorced mother. That was another one of the reasons she was about to do this. She hated her name so much! Because of it, people expected her to be perfect. They always thought Cassie would be just like her mother; feminine, beautiful, rich, and most importantly, always the most important, thin.

Cassie shook her head to clear those self-pitying thoughts. This would all be over soon.

She pressed the cold, sharp paring knife to the underside of her wrist. She drew back the knife, determined to succeed, and stopped.

Wait, she thought, I should get out of the tub. It would hurt Mom Margaret too much to find me like this.

Cassie imagined her mother dressed from head to toe in expensive designer clothes coming home from work later that night waling to the bathroom. She would see the claw footed tub in the middle of the room filled with a mixture of water and bright red blood. Sitting in the middle of the ruby water, would be Cassie. Only no longer would it be Margaret Cassandra Cooper, it would just be the body of some hours dead girl.

No, I can't do that, Cassie thought, it's already selfish enough what I'm going to do. Cassie decided that she would get dressed and do it on a pile of towels. There, that would be better. Less mess for Mom Margaret to clean after it's over.

Cassie gazed once again at the smooth underside of her bony wrist. She had never cut herself there before. She wanted to wait and make sure she was absolutely positive about this.

No, that's a lit. She had done it once before. She had been ready then too, and had wanted to end it so badly then! But she couldn't. She didn't have a plan. Her mother could have been home any time. And what if it didn't bleed enough fast enough?

Back then, she thought that she would have to die some other way. Then she'd found out about how hot water makes blood flow faster. And she had planned it all out soon after.

Cassie picked up the knife and sliced her left wrist.

She gasped. The pain was brilliant; it was amazingly lovely, but horribly terrifying at the same time. She had never felt anything so intense! It was better, even, than that time when she was 10 and she had carved "FAT" onto her upper thigh that still, five years later, left a scar that looked only weeks old.

Cassie dragged herself back to the present with some difficulty. She felt…odd.

Suddenly she heard frantic banging on the bathroom door. Someone yelled something about needing to touch shower and get back to working her double shift. Cassie started when she remembered that she had forgotten to lock the bathroom door, but relaxed soon again. She was past caring. The water felt warm and soothing.

Her body jerked involuntarily, and she giggled peacefully as she looked at her scarlet wrist, slick with blood. It was happening faster than she had expected. The door suddenly clicked open and the banging stopped. Cassie heard a gasp, and then….everything went black.