The reassurance of my mother has always calmed me down. It was times like these when I wish I was home-schooled,  and she’d always be right there.

Thinking about suicide again, I see.

No. I’m not. I tried focusing on the exam in front of me, but in my head, there was that woman. That woman, who tortured me to no end about my life.

Oh come on, I’m not that bad. I know you’d miss me if I was gone.

I wouldn’t. I never want to hear that shrill, hostile woman again.

There’s nothing you can do, I’m here forever. Unless…

“No!” I screamed out loud. Wait. I screamed out loud. Shit. Looking up, I saw all of my classmates staring at me.

My teacher had put her book down. “Maria, is something wrong?” she asked.

I swallowed, my face hot from embarrassment, and sweaty from anger.

Just lie. It works every time, right?

“I-I feel sick,” I pushed a piece of hair behind my ear. “May I use the restroom?”

The teacher looked at me, sideways and frowning. “Alright, but are you sure you’re okay?.”

I nodded, got up, and pushed my chair in. My sweater hung off my shoulder with the arm hole by my elbow. The restrooms at school were always so cold, it was like my sanctuary. I leaned back against the white tile, eyes closed and smiling at the way it cooled me down. I moved over to the sink, to splash my face. The water would help even more.

Hey, don’t get too comfy. You have an exam to take a--

I punched the mirror. “Just when I start to feel relaxed, you come and ruin my tranquility. Why?”

Because it’s what I live for. You knew that, right?

“All too well.” I glared at my reflection, into my eyes and hoped she could see my hatefulness. It was then I noticed that I’d broken the glass, and my hand was bleeding. Damn. I pumped some soap out of the container on the wall, and turned on the faucet. The water stung, but in a strange way, the pain felt good. I walked to the towel dispenser and pushed down the tab a few times. I dried my hands, and then wrapped them with the damp paper towels.

I left the bathroom, after a few minutes of making sure I wasn’t bleeding anymore, and sat down at my desk. Staring at my exam, I heard Her humming a happy tune. Quit it, I thought angrily.

Oh, sorry. Am I upsetting you? Too bad. Looks like you’ll have to tune me out

I scowled at the question I was trying to answer. I prayed to God for the bell to ring. I wanted out of school. Exam weeks were good, in my opinion, because we got to go home earlier. The closer I was to my mom, the better.

But what happens if you give in and kill her?

I winced. That’s not going to happen.

It might.