By Kyle Kucek
The teenage boy slid the blade of the butcherknife into his wrist. Warm blood rushed out of the wound, and he slowly slid the blade out. He did this to the other arm and watched with his wide hazel eyes.
Self-mutilation… it was the latest rage among the students of Willowbrook High, especially the freshmen. Matthew was one of the freshmen who cut himself every single day and gathered for the cutting rituals. Everyone who did it was known as part of the Cutting Club. The group contained mostly suicidal angst-ridden teens, but anyone was welcome to join.
Once Matthew’s arms were dripping in blood, he washed the knife in the kitchen sink and set it in the dishwasher. Cutting is fun, he thought, fingers stroking the gushing crimson liquid from his wounds.
* * *
Join the Cutting Club! Are you a teenager seeking happiness and just want the world to go away? Our club is perfect for you! Join us as we cut, cut, cut like there’s no tomorrow!
Emily and her friend, Susan, gaped down at the flyer in Susan’s hands. Dozens of grinning faces were scattered across the flyer, among actual splotches of blood.
“Where did you get this?” Susan asked Emily.
“They were passing it out after school,” Emily said, gazing up into Susan’s green eyes.
“I’ve heard about this,” Susan finally said, her jaw dropped. “It’s supposed to be fun.”
“Want to try it?” Emily asked.
The two blonde girls nodded and giggled in unison. They hurried into the house’s roomy kitchen and each pulled a knife out of the tall cabinet, and then ran into Emily’s bedroom.
Susan shut the door behind them, and they jumped onto the wide bed against the wall.
Emily was about to cut when Susan grabbed her by the shoulder.
“I’ve never done this before,” Susan said.
“No shit, well neither have I!” Emily giggled.
“But… I don’t feel good doing it.” Susan sighed. Then she looked up into Emily’s bright eyes. “You think you could first do it for me?”
“Sure!”
Emily held Susan’s arm and readied her knife. Slowly she slid the blade across the surface of Susan’s arm.
“Ooh! That feels really good!” Susan said, trembling a little in excitement. “You do your arm now.”
They both slid the knives across their arms several times and then stopped. That’s when Emily decided to do more.
At first she cut slowly, but then she went faster and faster, and soon blood was pouring from her arm.
“I’m going to try my leg,” Susan told her. Amid hysterical giggles she immediately began cutting away at her ankle, until blood was pouring out onto the bed. Emily let out a moan, somewhat orgasmic, and Susan looked over. Her friend was cutting to the bone of her wrist, with blood spewing from her cut veins and arteries.
“Holy crap Emily, don’t go further!” Susan said while still cutting away at her ankle. Blood started squirting from her veins.
“I can’t help it! It feels so good!”
Emily screamed when she finally stopped cutting. Her hand was lying on the carpet, detached, with blood still leaking from its veins.
And Susan screamed too. Her foot had been completely cut off from her leg.
* * *
Matthew was still cutting. He usually ended up with around one hundred scars each day, and he would count until he reached his daily goal.
Every day he would have to face the bullies at his school, and by taking his anger out with a knife he was able to forget about them. Matthew was even able to forget about his mother.
He’d remember his mother, who didn’t love him so much anymore after the divorce with his father. He’d remember his mother, who worked as a prostitute to keep the bills up and earn money for the payment on the apartment they stayed in.
That was the day Matthew decided he wouldn’t have to see her again. The last day he would cut, the last day he would be at school, and the last day he would participate in the weekly cutting ceremonies.
He cut deeper than he had even cut before. The pain felt good, and he cut deeper some more, still keeping his hand intact.
Matthew stopped, realizing if he cut anymore, he would die. He hadn’t realized that before.
Something inside him said he didn’t want to leave his mother or his life. He wanted to live to mutilate… live to cut. The Cutting Club was one of the bloodiest self-mutilation clubs ever. And Emily and Susan were only the first victims…
* * *
It was the thirteenth week of the cutting ceremonies. Matthew and Cat were among the large crowd of teenagers that walked to Willowbrook Park after school, avoiding teachers and parents as they headed deep into the woods of the park. They gathered every week under a grove of tall elm trees, far from the eyes of unwelcome visitors.
Cat sat down on the ground like everyone else. She hadn’t been to one of these things before. She sat next to Matthew, whom she had known since sixth grade.
An older teenager stepped up onto a tree stump and shouted above all of the talking. “Welcome, fellow cutters! Today is a very special day, since we are celebrating the thirteenth week of our club rituals. Let’s all give a round of applause to this special event that has occurred for the thirteenth week!”
Everyone cheered and clapped, as if they had all been announced they had won a million dollars.
“Now, today, we’re going to cut a little deeper. I’m sure you still have those beautiful scars from last week, but today, we’re not going to replace those. Today, we are going to scar the legs.” There were several gasps among the crowd, but the teenager ignored them and continued. “Now it may sound tricky, but it’s just as fun as the arms. So, on the bell, we will cut for thirty seconds, and then enter round two.”
Three rounds of cutting? Is this some sort of game? Cat thought in horror. She gulped as she took out the pocketknife from her purse and flicked it open. Her legs were already exposed by the very short length of her plaid skirt.
A bell rang, and Cat cut. She looked around her and noticed other people were cutting extremely fast. Is this a race? She cut faster and realized it felt a lot better. The wonderful warmth spread throughout her entire body, giving her a sense of relaxation.
Matthew was cutting himself quickly also. Soon the bell rang again, and everyone stopped, ready for round two.
That’s when Cat remembered what had happened to Emily. They use the bells
so that people don’t get carried away cutting. If only she had told them to use some sort of a timer, she could have saved her best friend’s life.
The bell rang again, and round two began. Cat didn’t cut. She sat there, realizing that if she continued to cut, she could die. Blood loss or something… I might even be able to cut something off if I continue this shit. She gazed up at the treetops and sighed. I’ve got to stop.
But Cat couldn’t stop. She was addicted.