A Graduation Gift

"Courtney!"

Whitney cried loudly. There were desperation and agony in her ear-piercing shriek.

Cassandra's heart sank horribly when she heard thescream. She rushed to the room where the voice came from and gasped when she saw what had happened inside.

The white European-style engraving dresser was turned upside down, and things that were once neatly placed on it were scattered on the floor.

Strong fragrance from a broken perfume bottle filled the room. Still, it failed to mask the smell of blood.

Courtney's long-sleeved silk nightgown was stained with blood. Cassandra's heart skipped a beat when she saw this.

The girl sitting on the floor was holding a piece of blade on her left hand, her face oblivious to her mother's scream. The shining piece of metal was bloody, too.

Looking closer, Cassandra realized that Courtney had cut herself. Blood oozed from the wound. And it stunned her just as much as it did Whitney.

After what felt like a long time, the frightened mother rushed to her daughter's side and knelt beside her. The girl still sat on her knees and gave no response at all. Whitney snatched the blade and flung it to a corner of the room before begging, "Please don't do this, Courtney!"

Then, tears started streaming down the poor woman's cheeks. Surrendering to the?sobs, she held the bloody girl tightly as she cried hoarsely.

"I don't know what to do, sweetheart!" she wailed, heartbroken. "I did not know when you'll give up and hurt yourself. It pains me so much to see you like this."

Whitney's face that was distorted in agony was a stark contrast to her daughter's, which was blank and indifferent, staring into the abyss.

Cassandra put her hands over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. The strain of the situation was too much for her, and she nearly burst into tears as well.

Whitney had told her that Courtney might have some mental problems, but she did not expect it to be so grave. She was thinking something possibly like sleepwalking or reluctance to interact with people, not to an extend that she would be predisposed to self-harm.

It now made sense why Whitney chose to be away from most people. She was a proud woman. She knew how gossip would spread if anyone found out that she had a mentally ill daughter.

Feeling pity, tears finally welled up in her eyes as Cassandra watched the mother holding the girl and crying her heart out.

Just then, they heard quick footsteps from downstairs. Seconds later, a man in a suit was led to the room by a steward.

The man was around 50 years old, and carried a medical kit with him. He wore grave expression as he strode into the room.

Hope shone in Whitney's eyes seeing the man.

"You must help her, Smithers. She... has cut her own wrist," Whitney pleaded.

doctor to get closer. It was then that Cassandra realized that the blood had stained her clothes too as she was

drugs and bandage from his kit, and put the bandage around her wounded

without moving or making a sound. As the doctor dressed her wound, she continued to stare in a daze, as if nothing around

yet looked nothing more like a broken doll now—no soul, no feelings. Her

take good care of her? It is true that she is less likely to hurt others, but she will most probably hurt herself when she is in doubt. You must keep an

frowning. The man seemed very displeased.

would do it again. She hasn't acted like this for months, so I thought

helpless. Unlike what Cassandra saw the morning she arrived, her hair was no longer clean and tidy. Instead, she looked like a sorry figure with all the messy locks on her face. She was clearly

her to recover if she hasn't let go of what has been troubling her!" the doctor declared. "Make sure that she keeps taking the medicine. It's very important for

walking out of the room, he

he lamented

thinking, 'What exactly is eating away at Courtney's soul? What on earth

here now and help Courtney change. And I want the floor here cleaned up, too," Whitney said calmly after taking a

but she mustered to give her instructions

her get clean up too,"

wished that there was something she could do for her.

Whitney. "I'll have a talk with the doctor,

Cassandra a grateful look and

them over and closed the door, getting

to do whatever they needed to like a very

old wounds on her arms. Those were deep-creased?scars. It was

eyes, it would have been unimaginable for her to think that a girl as beautiful as Courtney would have these horrific scars on the body that most women would take pride in.

girl

finished the work up by straightening Courtney's collar. Suddenly, a necklace around Courtney's neck caught her attention. She paused to

heart-shaped silver locket carved with vines that adorned its two windows. Cassandra realized immediately that it was a pendant in which Courtney might carry a photo...and it was slightly open.

to close it, she

what she saw. The face in

gave herself a

as if she was knocked by a sudden blow and her brain was

picture?' she wondered. 'What might be the relationship between

anything to do with whatever might be

in thought, Courtney bolted

across her face, as though

It was like watching a girl walk out of a