𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

Trickle of Blood

[photo not mine, taken from Pinterest]

WARNINGS:
Self-harm
Strong language
Death

Trickle of Blood

I steady my breath as I walk back to my brother waiting for me with his mates in his car. He's reviving the engine, showing off to them; the oldest of his friend group and the first to pass his driving test.

I watch him roll down the window and he shouts to me, "c'mon Amalie, what's taking you so long?"

I make an effort to quicken my pace but my head is dizzy. I have to get to the car. Oli's mates are nice. I need to ge-

I feel the blood trickling down my forearm. I'm almost there but I can't show them what I've done.

It won't be long, I think. It won't be long until you're in a better place.

I use my other hand to roll my shirt sleeve down, covering the sticky, scarlet liquid.

One of Olis's mates opens the back door and I slide in, thankful that I made it here without collapsing.

He smiles at me. I force myself to return it as I close the door and am thrown back into my seat as my brother accelerates away from the sidewalk. His mates laugh but they sound distant. Like echos from opposite ends of a tunnel. Blurred words that don't string together to form a sentence.

Is this dying?

Is this what my final moments are? Sitting in the back of my brother's car, speeding through town.

No, I think, don't be so pathetic, you hardly hurt yourself.

I come aware of one thing: the knife blade. I left it in my jeans, not in the pocket, inside the jeans, just above my ankle. I need to finish what I started. This small puncture mark on my arm won't end it. I need to do this properly. I just have to stay conscious until I leave this car...

We finally arrive at the house party, I shouldn't be here but Olis's friends insist that I'll be fine. The one next to me takes my hand when we're out of the car. I tense at the touch. He looks at me and smiles. I fake a shy smile back.

I don't know what to do.
He drags me to the door as Oli calls after us.

"Don't you go shagging me little sis." He and his mates laugh and I turn my back to them.

We enter the house and moments later, I'm thrown against a wall in the corner. His hands are all over me. His lips find my skin. I find strength in my dizziness and push him off me.

"Fuck off," I spit before my knees buckle beneath me. He catches me and we lock eyes.

"What the hell?" He asks, sitting me on the floor.

I shake my head and push him away. He can't be near me when I do this.

Shakily, I reach down to my ankle, drawing my jeans up, revealing the knife blade.

"What the fuck?" He shouts when he realizes what's happening.

He tries to take the knife off of me but I'm too fast. With my free hand, I peel back my shirt sleeve and show the original cut. This time I do it properly, all within a split second...

I slash down the length of my arm, blood spurting. He flinches away but moments later he's on me, trying to get a hold of me.

"NO," I shout, "I HAVE TO DO THIS."

I turn the knife in my hands, not feeling any pain as blood flows from my arm.

The blade points towards my chest.

I feel the steel on my skin.

I feel the initial pain.

Then I feel calm.

What I'm doing is right.

I push the knife further into my body.

Black spots appear in my vision.

Then...

Nothing...

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

I'm okay, trust me... idk why these are all so dark but there you go...

I hope you liked it!

Follow for more and continue to check this as new short stories will come on here often.

☺