The icy water drips from the tap as the boy scans his reflection in the mirror. He is surprised. He had expected something much different. Something much changed. Instead, he faces what he has faced for the past sixteen years. He contemplates this. He feels entirely different. It is as though, instead of a heart, he has a yawning chasm, lined with black fear and desolation. It is as though, instead of blood, he has liquid fire, so hot it is cold, burning through his veins. It is as though, instead of skin, he has razor-sharp needles, and with every move or twitch, he is torn apart. So yes, he is surprised that his face shows none of this terrible pain. He is also surprised that no-one has noticed. This pain is killing him, and no-one had noticed! Oh well, he thinks. If nobody notices, then nobody cares. So, with trembling hands, he lifts the frigid steel blade and raises it to his right wrist. Just as he is about to draw it over his pale skin, the bathroom door bangs open. He sighs. Great. “Jenna, what the hell are you doing in here?”, he says, barely suppressing the urge to scream in here face. Jenna stares at him, her eyes never leaving his. He can tell what she is thinking. Her boyfriend, with a knife to his wrist. “What are you doing?’, she whispers. The boy’s eyes go hard. “I found out”, he syas, through lips tight with fury. “I found out about you and David”. Jenna’s eyes go wide with shock, and the words pour out of her mouth in a rush. “David? That was nothing! I don’t love him! I lo-” She is cut off, as the boy pulls the cold knife across the naked part of his wrist. He turns to her, and smiles a quick smile.