Ten Seconds

Hannah Crowell, Writer/ Comic Artist




The pure ecstasy of anxiety that crawls

Through my thin red blood,

Reaching for the surface.


A prick and a push,

That’s all It’ll be.

I’ve done this before,

A refresher for my mind,

to push away depression for a few days.


This is my trophy,

And I’ll wear it proudly.


10… 9…

She caresses my warm skin with the frigid alcohol wipe.

Shivers run down my spine,

And I kick my feet lightly back and forth

diminishing the electrical signals pinching my brain,

screaming at me to



8… 7…

A minute green dot is placed down

On my pale pink flesh.

I stare at the wall,

My head held high for the best angle,

Obeying the stranger I’ve payed to stab me.


6… 5…

Second guesses.

She centers the needle precisely against her guideline.


4… 3…

I take a deep breath and ask for no warning.


2… 1

A tiny pinch and it’s over.


The heat of my newest earring pushes its way

Past the raw bloody hole I paid to have put in my head.

Adrenaline floods,

I admire my red-flushed ear in the mirror.

The blood is wiped away,

$40 for a hole in my ear,

But it’s worth it to me.