July 1
It was my third time. Don't they always say things happen in threes? Knife slitting through fragile skin, still damp.
Water pounding like giant teardrops. Sitting at the edge of the bathtub, knees shaking, watching scarlet water flow.
Darkness. Silence.
What seemed like a second turned into eternity. Blinding light. Voices. Madness. Silence.
That's all I could write, all I could remember. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to analyze the situation or understand why.