Sweet Nothing

Blood Red Calliope [SHORT STORY]

WARNING: Contains use of profanity, self harm, disorders, gory, and a lot of violence.

Calliope did not like anyone. She preferred to stay and be the quiet girl, -- this quiet girl wrote 'epic poetry' similar to the meaning of her name.

She tightly gripped the bright yellow, Ticonderoga pencil. With the light pink eraser on the top, the eraser was nearly gone from her constant erasing. Carefully rubbing her finger against the eraser as the pieces all fell to the ground, -- just like ashes. There was just a little bit of the eraser left, she took her fingernail taking into so she could fully rip out, the eraser. She did not like having the ability to eraser anymore. She did not want to erase. Calliope sighed once the bright yellow pencil had no pink eraser. Much better, she thought.

Now. Now, she could write. Ripping a piece of lined paper, so precisely as she grabbed the corners and slowly ripped it out. She flinched, the paper was torn, -- it was torn. She hated torn paper.

"No, no, no." She screeched, the paper falling from her hands as she stomped on it. "No, no, no!"

Calliope did not like torn paper, it had to be perfectly ripped not one edge ripped. But of course it never happened that way. She put her hands on her head, "Just stop it. Stop messing with me."

But it did not stop, as she fell to the wooden floor, Her hands slowly falling to her sides. Her head landing, on the side with a smash sound. Nearly sounding like glass.

Then slowly the crimson red blood poured out, it poured from the side of her head. Calliope's blonde hair now dark red. Her lips started bleeding pouring out, as the stench of blood started filling the room.

And then she smiled, -- she smiled a bittersweet smile. Her previously bright white teeth that used to glow, were a shade of red. Her tongue stuck out and she licked the blood of her bruised lips. The taste of blood in her mouth, she slurped it down as if it was a slurpee. But she was no vampire, but never did Calliope dislike the taste of blood. It made her feel real, alive. Calliope was desperate to feel real, for she believed she was utterly fake. All fake.

They told her that something was wrong with her, they told her she was crazy. For she spoke of crazy things, -- she enjoyed taking a knife and cutting her wrist, she enjoyed the feeling of getting high. Calliope would spend hours just sitting on the steps of her house, with a cigarette laughing to herself things of which people would not, and did not understand. She bought endless bottles of beer, and vodka. She spent her days drinking, and looking out the window, laying on her bed as the rain would fall. Pitter patter, that was how the rain would sound. Pitter patter. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

As she laid on the ground she would whispered to herself, "Pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter."

She was in a state of serene.

And then Ed Sheeran's voice filled the room, the stench of blood and the sound of his voice. Calliope's eyes were starting to close, "No." She whispered.

She stretched her hand out as the vodka bottle cut the corner of her skin. Yet she picked it up trying to get up so she could take a sip. But she could do neither, and so the bottle slipped from her hands landing right on her. Glass shards flying everywhere, the vodka falling on her cuts and bruises. Calliope was one brave girl because all she did was whimper, -- a whimper so soft she could barely hear it. And then before she died and left the world, without anyone there to remember her, she wanted to do one more thing, -- just one last thing.

And so she did, -- she let out a bloodcurdling scream. It was so loud she winced, and she knew someone would find her but they would not be able to save her because as soon as they came she would already be dead. They would consider it suicide as that was most likely what it was.

Then something unexpected happened, something unplanned. And that something, was 6'2'' boy named Jacob, who came to save Calliope, because it was just out of curiosity. He had seen her enter the apartment, drunk and high, screaming a name. Yet, he never knew who that person was. He couldn't even hear the name, it just sounded like an incoherent mumble.

"Calliope, darling. What have you done to yourself?" He muttered, to the blood red Calliope, scooping her up in his arms.

"I've made myself pretty." She giggled, tugging on his shirt as he walked to his car. Placing her on the seat, he drove to the hospital. Hearing her scream, no.

When he went inside the hospital with Calliope, they all stared at him in shock. Until they took her away from him. She started shaking, "No, stop it! I'm fine."

Fine, that word she had used numerous times, as she slashed a cold, silver knife against her skin. The blood which was there would go away, but the scars? They never went away. That was why Calliope like them, scars made her feel real. They made her feel like an actual fucking human being. As they touched her body in various ways, she screamed and shouted. She shouted things no one could understand. Yet her screams, they were so loud even a patient far away would be able to hear her scream, filled with terror and pain.

Jacob wasn't fazed he barely blinked as she screamed. Then finally she looked at him, with sadness. And then she laughed, -- she fucking laughed, and then she snickered. People looked at her in distaste and she screamed at them. As they pulled along the corners of a white bed, he didn't even know. He just watched her shaking his head, then Jacob sat down on a blue, hard, plastic chair. He blinked, and looked out the window.

Jacob stood up and walked out of the hospital, a cigarette in his hand. He held the cigarette between the index and middle finger, he put the orange color part of the cigarette in his mouth, -- right between his lips. He took out his lighter and lit the end of the cigarette, as he let some smoke enter his mouth. As the smoke was in his mouth for just a few seconds, he breathed out and took the cigarette out of his mouth. He tapped the ashes out, smiling to himself. Almost crazier, then Calliope herself. Throwing the cigarette in the tray areas, he walked back inside the hospital his mouth smelling of smoke. Someone grabbed his arm, so he turned to face whoever it was. It was one of the nurses, "The women you brought in, is over there."

He should have denied and said, it didn't matter. But he didn't he followed the rather short nurse, who pointed inside the room, -- not following him.

As soon as he walked inside, Calliope started screaming profanity's at him. He wasn't unnerved by her. Then finally Calliope stopped. "Why did you send me here? I was so close."

He didn't need to ask her what 'so close' was as he already had guessed. Suicide.

"You need help." Was all he said, leaning against the wall still not close to Calliope.

"So do you, Jacob." She did know his name, he thought. He was surprised but did not show it.

"We're quite different, I wasn't the one found on the floor of my apartment. Blood dripping from my head, and Ed Sheeran playing."

Calliope was very close to flinching but she didn't, she just looked at Jacob. "You don't know me."

"You were the one who first started judging me, Calliope."

"Your an observant man," She said, biting her bruised lip.

"It was nice to meet you Calliope." He tipped an imaginary hat.

She didn't bother to reply.

[a/n: wow, okay so this was just so amazing to write. i really love it myself. please let me know what you think. how you feel about this? i know i kind of ended it on a cliffhanger. sorry!]