A knife called fury

She screamed her fury at the boy in front of her. As they argued she finally asked.
"Do you honestly hate me that much?!" Her reply was simple.
"Yes! I wouldn't even care if you died!" Taking this into consideration she grabbed a knife. Deliberately she cut her wrists, slowly. When the boy tried looking away she just shoved the knife cutting her arm in his face.
"Look! Look! You don't care if I die so why not watch me do it?! Know that as I'm doing this it's because of you! You told me you did't care!"
As she cut the boy ran away. She slowly set down the knife and smiled. Lighting up a ciggarette she listened in on the conversation the boy was having with another. Making out the words through the hysteria was hard but she managed to get one thing out of it all: The boy claiming that she almost killed herself because of him. Laughing she rolled her eyes; she had barely grazed her wrists on all of the eleven cuts.