Cutting Deeper – Bridgehampton High School (2012)

India Hemby and Jennah Hochstedler perform in Samantha Broadmeadow’s play, “Cutting Deeper.” Photo by Star Black.

Cutting Deeper by Samantha Broadmeadow

Click here to watch a video of this performance.

Veronyka: Missy? Missy, are you ok?

Missy: Sure… I’m fine.

V: No you’re not….. Please talk to me. I’m here for you.

M: I’ll be fine. I promise.

V: Okay. Just remember I’m always here for you.

-Veronyka exits Missy’s room –

M: I’m so alone. I hate when they do that. I’m tired of being laughed at by the kids at school and humiliated in front of the entire lunch room.

-Grabs Razorblade out of the dresser drawer-

M: I’m so dead inside, I can’t even cry anymore.

-Rolls up her sleeve and cuts her arm-

M: Maybe if I could just get the nerve to cut a little deeper I could end it all.

Narrator: A few moments later Missy is ok again and Veronyka enters

M- I’m feeling a lot better.

V: (sarcastically) Yeah, I wonder why.

M: What’s that supposed to mean?

V: I know what you did……Believe me, it only helps for a little while.

M: How would you know?

V: Because I’ve done it. Listen to me. It’s not your only way out. I’ve been in your shoes and I know the emotions that go through you head. I know what it’s like to be so dead inside that you can’t even cry.

M: Were you listening at my door?

V: I only came to the door because I forgot my iPod in your room, but when I heard you talk like that I wanted to give you your space for a few minutes. I want to help you and maybe I’m the only one who can.

M: I doubt that. You seem so perfect, so…whole inside.

V: Only as whole as a broken soul can get. I got addicted to it too. I just found a better way to deal with it.

M: I’m not as strong as you…I could never be that strong. Don’t you see? I need this. I can’t go without it. I’ve tried to quit. I really have…..but just all the emotions in my life, all the bullying, all the abuse….i just couldn’t handle it. I was dealing with my own inner turmoil, and the cutting is my way out. It’s like everything that hurts me or bothers me causes some sort of pressure and cutting releases all of that.

V: I know. It was hard for me to stop but I found a way to. What do you mean all the abuse you’ve gone through?
M: Don’t worry about it. How’d you find your way out of this addiction?

V: Well I started to write poetry. All that pressure you were talking about is just too much emotion balled up inside one person, a person who needs to stop bottling up everything. Cutting only hushes your demons, keeps them at bay, until someone, or something stirs them up again. But writing puts those demons on paper they go away for a bit. I mean they do come back, but you eventually find a way to deal with it without a crutch.

M: You know nothing of my demons, nothing of my past, and just because your mom married my dad does not mean I need to talk to you about my problems.

V: You wouldn’t be talking to me about them, you’d be silencing your demons by yourself and no one has to see them except for you.

M: I’m not doing it. Cutting helps enough.

V: Obviously it doesn’t if you need to do it every day.

M: Whatever. Get out of my room.

Narrator: Veronyka leaves to go get dinner at the store and Missy’s dad has been drinking.

Voice over of Missy’s dad: (slurring and yelling): Your just a useless little bitch, just like your mother.

M: (Slams bedroom door) I hate him. I hate when her drinks. These bruises never seem to go away.

-pulls out a knife –

M: And my scars never heal. This is my only way out.

-Veronyka returns home and enters Missy’s room to find her crying on the floor cuddled with a stuffed bunny-

V: (As she walks into Missy’s room) Hey, your dads asleep and I was……Oh my god, Missy what happened?

-She goes over and kneels down next to her to help her-

M: (sobbing) I hate him. He makes me sick and I just want to throw up.

V: Hun, what happened? (Tries to calm Missy down)

M: My father…

V: What did he do? Hun, it’s going to be ok. I’m right here.

M: He hit me. He’s an abusive asshole and I have so many bruises because of him.

V: Why didn’t you say anything earlier? I’m sorry he does this to you.

M: I can deal with it alone. Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault….

V: Obviously you can’t if it leads you to cutting yourself. How long has he been doing this?

M: After my mother died he became a drunkard. And during his drunk fits he’d hit me. At first it was only when he was drunk and then it continued when he wasn’t drunk.

V: We need to tell my mom. She could save you, and maybe herself.

M: No, he won’t hit your mom. Maybe you if no one’s around, but definitely not your mom.

V: I don’t care about me, but I do care about you. And I want to help you get out of here.

M: You barely even know me. Why do you even care?

V: I know enough and I care because your my sister and I’m not leaving you alone with him whether you like it or not.

M: You think you can help me? Do you know how many people have given up on me?

V: No, but that doesn’t matter. I’m determined to help you.

M: Whatever. But you’re going to have a hard time with that.

V: Yeah, only because your thick-headed. I promise you all you have to do is try to write a poem when your demons are disturbed.

M: Why do you call them demons? They are just simply emotions.

V: Emotions that haunt you, lead you to your self-destruction. Emotions that become more than just simply emotions, but ghosts from your past. Ghosts that haunt you.

M: I guess your right but still I’m not writing a poem to “express my emotions”

V: It’s not just expressing your emotions, which by the way, you already do through cutting, but its kind of like self-therapy.

M: Whatever. I don’t need your little self-therapy bullshit. Get out of my room.

V: Fine. I’ll bring you your dinner when it’s done.

M: I’m not hungry.

V: You need to eat though.

M: Whatever.

-Veronyka leaves-

M: Maybe she’s right. I need to do something else. Where will my scars lead me? And what if they never disappear? I hate being stuck in my horrid past. Maybe I should stop thinking about that and start thinking about my future.

-Veronyka enters with a bowl of rice-

V: It’s not much, but at least it’s something.

M: (quietly) Thank you

V: Oh you’re welcome. Just bring your bowl into the kitchen when you’re done. I’ll do the dishes before I go to bed.

M: No, I mean thank you for trying to help me and I’m sorry I’ve been so stubborn. I’m just afraid of letting go of all I’ve ever known. I was wondering if you could show me some of your poetry?

V: Of course I will, and I’m extremely happy I could help.

-reads a poem-

“Broken and bruised twisted and used ignored by those u love the

haunting feeling of betrayal flowing at your feet hanging from your back

Foreshadowing of a dim tomorrow feels like cutting and hating and the

pisst off emotions that are my own as I sit here and cry the tell tale

of a lie they need to think need to access the situation before judging

my actions, they needed to find the problem of this fucked up situation that is my own I think of the dones and yet to happens and

remember all the shit I’ve done for them and all they do is sit at a

square screen and ignore the already ignored girl slitting her wrist

in the corner”

M: ….I know that feeling. I know that exact emotion. This is honestly beautiful. I doubt I could write like that.

V: Believe me I didn’t know I could either. But I did, and I’m sure you can to. Can you at least try next time you want to cut? If it doesn’t work, we can find something else.

M: I guess……I mean I don’t know…..

V: C’mon please? Trust me, just try. No one’s going to judge it and no one’s going to see it.

M: Fine. I’ll try.

V: Yay!!

-hugs Missy-

M: Jeez, didn’t know you’d be so happy.

V: Well I am. I’m going to go get drinks from the corner store. You want anything?

M: Sure, you know what I like.

V: Ok.

-Veronyka leaves and Missy’s cell phone rings-

M: (Hesitant) Hello?

Female voice: You’re such a useless bitch. Go cut yourself, slut.