"I don't blame you," He whispered.
"I know."
"I love you."
She held her breath until it hurt, "I know that, too."
"It's a small cut."
"It isn't," His bloody fingers gripped onto her thigh like a vise, "You're always so angry. You don't just bleed red, Cameron, you are red."
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Short Story"You're always so angry. You don't just bleed red, Cameron, you are red." eleven teenagers | eleven encounters | eleven colors :: an attempt at the 50 word challenge // all based on real life happenings ::
