Stacy is a troubled young woman who has yet to experience love in her life. Her parents have made it very clear to her that she was the worst accident of their life. She stopped looking for love from them and started hating herself. In the midst of Stacy trying to figure out why her life is so terrible she begins to cut herself so that she can feel something again. It starts out with small cuts hoping to be able to hide her new addiction but as her life spirals the cuts get bigger and she begins to believe that the color of blood is her way of creating art. For her it is the most beautiful creation on earth, she is loved. She eventually finds herself in a place where she is getting help but still saddened when she stands naked in the mirror with all of the lifelong memories of the art she created.

DI/ Female- Creating Art

  • I think my mother hated me. I mean if I'm being honest which, I'm really trying to be because that's a part of my "recovery," I know she hated me. She thought that I ruined her relationship with my father and she never forgave me for it. (Beat) But I realized that I didn't choose to be born. I didn't choose for her to be my mother. And I sure as hell didn't choose for that bastard to be my father. Sorry if you weren't ready for that newsflash but my mother hated me. My mother hated me and she loved him like he was some kind of Saint, so I hated her even more. And my father actually was a bastard. I grew up dirt poor in a city surrounded by rich kids. I guess that was the joy of living in Los Angeles, I could see all of the beautiful people, all of the rich kids, all of the wonderful things but it's almost like looking at the Hollywood sign, you can see it from a distance but nobody ever really gets to touch it. So when I sat on the bus stop waiting to go to school I could see the moms and dads in their luxury cars driving their children to school and their talking to each other and smiling and laughing like…a family. My parents never did that for me. If they weren't fighting they were ignoring. And most people don't realize it but ignoring is a verb, it's a very active word and I experienced it all my life. I know that I sound mad and bitter but I'm trying to cope. For the first time in my life I'm actually trying to do better and be a better person. Because I realized that by being bitter and angry it turned me into them.




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