The cutter she gave me is still laying in my pocket. Sometimes I would take it out and admire it for a long time. The existence of the cutter is important to me, it reminds me I'm not alone.
There's always someone in my mind.
Once I was admiring the cutter, someone else sneaked into my back. I turned around, didn't say anything. He started to ask me what was that.
I can't admit the existence of hers. I can't admit the wound she made. She can't appear in front of anyone.
She is the secret I need to keep.
I told him I don't know what was in my hand, and said this was the thing my friend asked me to keep it for her.
That's true, she asked me to keep it for her.
Actually he knows everything, nothing can escape from him. I made him to be a bystander, for me to continue my life.
Comment:
Well... this is inspired when he asked me. I admit that I keep a cutter with me all the time for work and some sort of reason. I doesn't feel safe in anywhere, even at home. I wanted to be alone.
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