I quickly slammed the bathroom door, panting. I sat on the toilet and looked down at my skin. The porcelain, unflawed flesh was so tempting. I lay the blade on my skin. A soft pop sounded as the blade dug deep into my wrist. A fiery heat spread quickly across my entire lower arm and hand. I threw my head back, groaning as the pleasure of blood running down my arm gave me chills. I looked down at the deep red color, coninuously flowing down my arm and onto my jeans. Ever since my first knee - scrape as a kid I've had a love for the crimson color of blood. The first time I tasted it is what got me hooked. I was cooking some casserole for dinner when the knife slipped, making a small cut on my thumb. In a rush to clean the knife and keep the blood off of the food, I quickly swept my thumb across my tongue, cleaning the cut. The salty - metallic flavor ran over my tastebuds, intriguing me. The taste of blood, delightful and intriguing left me wanting more.
