Alice sat in the corner of her cold cell, her tangled hair falling in her eyes. She stared blankly at the opposite wall. She shifted her position slightly, her papery hospital gown making a crinkling noise as it rubbed against the wall. She looked down at the small razor blade she’d stolen the last time she was out. It glinted in the bright fluorescent lights, the same lights that made Alice’s head hurt so much. 

Why did she steal it again? She couldn’t remember. She barely remembered anything anymore. Everything was replaced with drugs and adrenaline. She squinted her eyes slightly, tilting her head at the blade. She pressed her finger against the edge, then winced and pulled away, staring at the drops of blood forming at her fingertip. 

She would be in trouble for injuring herself. She knew this by now. But at least, when she hurt herself, she was in control. It was her own thoughts and decisions, and not someone else puppeteering her for their own twisted knowledge. Her hand shook as she pressed the blade against her forearm, this time not pulling away from the stinging she felt.

She slowly dragged the blade across her forearm, watching the blood start dripping from the wound. She pressed down harder, cutting down deeper, until she had cut across the length of her forearm. Then she stopped. She dropped the blade on the ground, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

She stared at the wound. It was bleeding more than she thought it would. But that didn’t bother her. She picked up the blade from the ground, wondering if she should do it again. She didn’t care how much it hurt. She’d felt much worse. What she cared about was the sense of control it gave her. Her self-inflicted wound wouldn’t remind her of any tests. It wouldn’t reenforce her lack of free will. She did it, all by herself.

But she would just get in more trouble if there were more cuts. She would stop at one cut. She stood up and walked toward the cot in the other corner, tucking the blade under the pillow. The blood from her wound started dripping onto the floor, and she started pacing. 

Back, forth, back, forth. As if nothing had happened.