The awful truth began to dawn on Deborah that Carla had become her friend, that she liked Carla, and that the scarred befriending part of her still had the power to feel.
And suddenly Deborah knew what was good about the D ward: no more lying gentility or need to live according to the incomprehensible rules of Earth. When the blindness came, or the hard knots of pain from the nonexistent tumor, or the Pit, no one would say. 'What will people think!' 'Be ladylike,' or 'Don't make a fuss!'
...and Lactamaeon, second in command of Yr, whispered If one is to be doomed, one must be beautiful, or the drama is only a comedy. And therefore, Unbeautiful...
My name is Gabrielle and I am twenty-eight years old. I began to self-injure at age fifteen -- so nearly thirteen years -- minus a two year period. This website was made to let self-injurers know that they are not alone and to help their friends and family learn more about self-injury and how it affects their loved one.
