"Will you be fine now? Do you want me to stay?" She slowly unwrapped her arms from around her little brother as he gave her a nod as an answer. "But this hurts, I just realised." He said, with a short shy and guilty glance at his hand. "Of course it does. I will go get some ointment, you stay here." With that, she left the room, taking just one more glance at his arm. Some old and some new, there was hardly any part of the skin on his left forearm and palm not carrying the burden of any scars or cuts. Scars, she had known them too well for too long. She could tell by looking at a scar how much a person had suffered. She could tell which scars were from self-harm and which from suicidal attempts. The numerous, shallow, scary to look at, those ones were from "self-harm". Usually done when a person loathed himself so much that he would want to cause pain, see himself suffering, and fill himself up with physical pain enough to overwrite the actu