Death From A Cut

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Copyright © 2016, Linda Gonzalez - All Rights Reserved

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Death From A Cut

She cups her stinging cheek. Her lips part slightly as she forces to make eye contact with the one that created her. His eyes are filled with rage, his hands are balled into fists, his lips are curled into a snarl almost. She lets her hand drop by her side, pretending that the pain in her cheek didn't bother her. By now, after 15 years, she had learned to hold in her tears and to save them for later for when she was alone in her dark room and with a blade. This time though, seemed different, his eyes were truly filled with hatred towards her, all the other times seemed like he still cared for her, but that light was slowly dying in his eyes and it seemed it had finally burned out. "

Why can't he be proud of me? Just once, that's all I'm asking! She pleads silently to no one in particular.

His fists unclench as he points towards her room. "Go to your room!! I don't want to see you all day, and maybe tomorrow and the day after!" He belches as loudly as he can. Her eyes wander to where he's pointing.

"Do I get any-" She starts before brutally being interrupted by her father's roar.

"Without food and without anything. You'll just sleep or lay in bed!" She flinches by the tone of his voice. Of course she was already used to it, but she couldn't help but flinch every time.

She strips off her hoodie and looks for her blade. Her father had locked her in by slamming the door so loud, she thought China must've heard it. She scans her shelves until her eyes fall upon what she is looking for. She smirks for a second and reaches out to grab it. By then a million things were flooding her mind. But all she could focus on, was the physical pain and happiness she was about to create, with the small silver thing in her palm. She takes it in her left hand and slowly positions it on her right forearm. She slowly makes her way from one end of her wrist to the other, making sure to apply even pressure as she slices at all times. One, two, three, five, ten... She counts slowly.

"Eh, there's room for one more. I'll make sure this one is bigger than the rest though." She decides to do it vertically this time. Her eyes longer on the blue, green vein popping out, just asking to be sliced in half. She positions her blade along the edge of the vein and applies more pressure and a much longer cut than the rest. She maintained the same pressure until she reached just above her elbow. She watched, fascinated as little by little, red started to stain the line she had just created. In five minutes, the bleeding was not stopping. The other small ones had already stopped, but the big vertical one was being stubborn. Ten minutes passed and she was feeling tired and felt the need to sleep. "I'll rest for a few minutes, while I wait for my forearm to stop bleeding."

Her eyes close instantly. That line truly was her last cut, as she fell into never ending sleep.

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