"But there's nothing  wrong! Well? Is there?" 

“I told you I was stressed.” Brigitte stared at him. That’s all there was to it. This was the result of her not being able to handle everything going on in her life. It was her release. What was so different with her cutting herself on occasion compared to…say…quidditch players getting their aggression out by whacking balls at others? There was no difference except for the fact that one was condoned and the other wasn’t.

"Bloody hell, Brigitte. You need help."

“No. I don’t. I have it under control. I’m careful. I only cut the arms not the wrists.” She wasn’t that stupid. Sure, death sounded like a good break from life, but it would be a permanent one and Brigitte was not that far gone.

"That's not going to happen."

“Then I guess we’re done here,” she said, nodding at the book. “I’ll just study on my own since obviously you’re not going to be in the right mindset for it.” Brigitte started toward the door. This was the last thing she was wanting to talk about. She wasn’t going to waste any more time on pointless discussion.

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