Sorry,
he whispers,
a smile on his lips,
I just don't trust you anymore .
Blood drips down his arms,
Stream after stream of red merging on the pale skin.
You never asked me
'Are you okay?',
Never glimpsed at the tears running down my face
day after day.
His palms rest on the soft nape of his neck.
You just turned your back!
he screams,
rage reflecting in the sound.
You never cared!
His nails feel sticky and warm.
He screams again
and again,
his helpless rage driving him,
his mind powerless to stop the raw emotion.
His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of his neck,
drawing fresh blood once again.
Again he screams
You never cared!
Not about me.
Not about anyone!
He falls to his knees,
the smile long gone,
the scream still in his throat.
He sits there on the floor,
staring into the mirror,
blood dripping from the gashes in his neck,
hands still clenched in the streams of blood.
You never cared
he whispers to his self in the mirror
Never.
YOU ARE READING
Based
Short StoryEvery picture tells a story, And every story paints a picture, So why can I not use a picture to tell a story? I do not own any of these pictures. All works in this book are fiction. (Please let me know if you would like me to tag anyt...
