Okay, so this turned out a lot more emo-ish than I'd intended. It's still written well, right?

...right?

Please review! Matty wants you to!

I stare at the razor blade in my hands, contemplating.

The blade is long, about one and a half times as long as the handle. It is shining, brand new and freshly polished, with a double edge to it. The handle is rich, red-brown wood, smoothly polished.

I test the edge against my thumb, hissing slightly when it draws blood with the lightest of pressure. Only one thought runs through my mind.

It would be so easy to end this right now…

And I know I could do it. No one would miss me, no one would care.

Some people I know would celebrate.

I lightly press the edge of the blade against my arm, testing… what? I don't know.

Maybe I'm wondering how the red blood would look against the skin of my arm.

Maybe I just want to feel a little bit of pain, instead of nothing…

I drag the blade down the width of my arm quickly, leaving a red line against the skin. I hiss slightly, putting the blade back into it's sheath in my back pocket.

I won't bandage the cut. It lasts longer that way. Maybe it'll even get infected…

I could only dream.

"Mail!" a voice angrily calls from the kitchen.

"What, Mama?" I sigh, speaking in Spanish because she won't understand me otherwise.

"Come into the living room. Policemen want to talk to you." she says in Spanish.

I groan, knowing that the only reason they want to talk to me is because they can't understand any Spanish, and my mother is to lazy to learn English.

I pull my shirtsleeve over the cut and walk into our living room, choosing to eye the threadbare carpet instead of my mother, or the two Police officers for a minute.

"What has she done now?" I ask tiredly. My older sister, Selena, had gotten into a lot of things she shouldn't have lately, and I just knew that this visit was because of her.

One of the officers sighed. "We've been called down here because of the numerous reports of late concerning you and your sister. Is she here?"

"No." I said calmly. I should've known they were here for me, too. I… didn't have the best school detention record as of late.

He gave my mother a look that clearly said You're such a bad parent, and it's all your fault she's not here. My mother, not fully understanding what was going on, looked back at him with a blank expression.

"Where is she, then?" The man said. If he stroked his mustache one more time, I would end up a laughing heap on the floor, even though this was so not funny…

I shrugged. "Probably at her boyfriend's. I can call her, if you want."

He nodded, gesturing for me to do so.

"What do they want?" my mother asked.

"Something about me and Selena getting into too much trouble." I shoot back, not at all fazed by the slightly crumpled look she gives me. She knows I blame her for Selena's behavior.

She doesn't watch either of us enough, too caught up in her drugs to notice her own children spiraling out of control.

I call Selena's number quickly, ready to get this over with.

"Mail?" her voice rings through the phone, light and pleasant.

"Yeah, can you come home? Now. There's some policemen here and they want you."

"What?" she says. "What do they want?" she hisses in Spanish.

"They were talking about us getting into to much trouble recently. I think they're from Social Services." I say back in kind.

"Mierda!" she curses. "I'll be there in five." I hear a sigh from the other side of the phone, as she says goodbye to several people in English.

"Okay, bye." I say, even though she's already hung up on me.

"She'll be here soon." I tell the policemen.

An empty silence fills the room.

"So…." One of the policemen says. "How long have you been in California?"

I glare at him, not really wanting to talk. "About 6 months."

"Your English is very good."

"Thanks."

"Have you been to America before, or did you just learn it?"

"They taught us some English in school." I say, giving him a look that clearly says I would rather not talk to him.

"That's good." he says. "It certainly must come in useful. Is that the only other language you learned?"

I sigh. "I don't really want to talk to you. Can't we just wait until Selena gets here?"

He shrugged, finally silencing.

"Who did you call?" my mother asks, desperate to understand at least a little bit of what's going on.

"Selena. She'll be here soon."

A few minutes of terse silence pass before my sister walks in.

Her hair is long and black, falling down to her waist in ruler-straight strands. Her skin is light, and her eye's are dark, framed by long, dark eyelashes.

In short, she looks nothing like me even though we share the same mother. I have dark red hair and blue-green eyes, which I must've inherited from my father.

Oh well. He's gone now. It's not like I can ask him.

"What do you want?" Selena says, looking towards the policemen and standing next to me

"Lately there have been a lot of notices on the behavior of you two. Drugs, liquor, self-harm…" On that last note, he looked straight at me. I tried, and failed, to look innocent.

"We've decided that this isn't a fit house hold for two growing children. Social Services will be here to pick you up in three days. Get packing."

Matt: How dare you make me all emo!

Cassie: I'm sorry! I'll buy you a new video game!

Mello: And I want chocolate, too.

Cassie: You're not even in this chapter.

Mello: But I am later.

Cassie:...Okay. But only if you do the disclaimer.

Mello: Cassie doesn't own Death Note. I want my chocolate now!