Warnings:
Strong imagery of self harm.
Depressing
Sad
If you are sensitive to this kind of stuff please feel free to skip this story.
Drip, drip, drop down de-
The blood was dripping. One slow, cynical drop at a time. It fell on the tiled floor, almost screaming at me with its intense color. The symmetrical square tiles a mere pale grey sky against the deep dark red of my blood.
More tears fell as I slowly lifted my hand up to my wrist. There was already two open wounds and a million scars scattered haphazardly over my forearm. I looked down in mourning. My tears streaked across my face, as if in a race to see who could fall first. One dropped and fell into the pool of blood collecting on my arm. I watch as it mixed in with the red liquid so easily and I cried as I realized why. They belonged.
I brought the blade down in one long swoop, quickly making a gash that ran along the length of my crying wrist. I stood there for a second and watched as my slit slowly opened, like a flower just bursting after the spring months.
As I fell to the ground, my energy depleted, I held onto one last memory:
Her. The girl behind my sleepless nights and my painless mornings. Behind my scars and my crumbling heart. Behind my broken soul and my crushed spirit.
And I remembered — I remembered then why I had fallen in love. Because:
I didn't love her for the way she danced with my angels
But rather for the way her voice silenced my demons.
And then it went dark.
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Short stories
Short StoryA whole bunch of super short stories that I made up from either lines from songs or my imagination. Also the first few stories are so badly written but I'm too lazy to unpublish them and then renumber so please feel very free to skip over the first...
