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Bowl Burns.

I've got one.
I didn't do it to myself, I made a friend do it to me.
If you're going to judge a purposeful burning, I suggest you quit reading and press that back button on your browser.


We numbed ourselves before I had proposed the circular burn on my thigh, but I had contemplated asking her long before I'd picked her up-which was why I was wearing shorts in the snow.
I remember we were talking, discussing something we were really into, and out of nowhere I told her that I wanted her to burn me.
She asked me why, but I could see her eyes clouding over with the resolve to do it.
I told her simply because I wanted one, I didn't want to do it to myself, and I wanted one of my best friends to have the hand in it.
I knew she could do it.
I knew she would.
She even told me she'd done it before, which was a relief.
She lifted up the gift I had given her to the light in my room and began passing a lighter over the lip.
I'm sure if "Isaak" could talk, he would have screamed from the heat.
She sat on my bed, and I on a chair next to her, shorts pulled up. She reminded me to sit still, and I told her I would. She pressed Isaak to my leg as I held onto her arm.
The next few moments were painful, but not terribly so. I held onto her arm and my leg jolted slightly with the contact, and all was silent as I could feel my flesh burning. My stomach twisted into a knot, not for the pain I would feel, but for the difficulty of hiding the scar afterwards.
Immediately after Isaak had been lifted from my thigh, I walked to the bathroom and cleaned my wound.
I was satisfied.
It was a tad crooked, and it wasn't on my arm like I'd originally wanted, but this would be far easier to cover up.
As water ran over my pulsating thigh, I smiled to myself.
I felt clean.
spacehyena spacehyena 18-21, F Feb 1, 2012

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