At ten years old you sit down at your desk
Your friend notices a scratch on your arm and asks
"What's that from?"
"I don't know. I must have scraped myself on something."

At twelve years old you sit down at your desk with scraped knuckles
Your friend notices and asks
"Whats that?"
"Oh, I fell. It's nothing."

At thirteen you sit down at your desk with three scratches
Your friend asks
"What's that from?"
"My cat scratched me a few days ago"

At fourteen you sit down at your desk with nail marks in your arm
Your friend asks
"What did you do?"
"I don't know. I did it in my sleep"

At fifteen you sit down at your desk with a really wide and deep cut
Your friend asks worried
"When did that happen?"
"It happened yesterday. I fell off my bike"

At sixteen you sit down at your desk with several wounds
Your friend doesn't ask you what happened

At seventeen you're not at school
Your friend gets told by the principal that you committed suicide on Saturday
On the next Saturday your friend 'falls off her bike' and has several cuts
Or so she tells her new friend
The story repeats and begins again