Shadow Of The Nightshade

Rain, Rain, Go Away...

××
Shadow

I stared at my hands. They were still covered in blood.

I needed punishment for my sins.

Rain. The rain dyed my white red till there was no more white on me to see.

Rain. It couldn't take away the heat of Timothy's blood that constantly burned my skin.

Rain. Some of that bright red actually belonged to me.

I couldn't feel the rain anymore, just the pendulous stillness of the swing I sat on.

The blade in my hand looked brilliant in the pale white moonlight, it made it glow red.

Red. Some things looked better in red, like this blade, I decided. So I made another cut which released some anger from my heart as I kick the muddy ground lightly and swung higher in the rain. But the blood washed off the silver edge of the knife.

I smiled widely, maybe it'll turn red eventually if I bleed enough. What a beautiful color red is.

But I don't look good in red. Monsters and Demons look good in red. Why don't I look good in red?

'Rain, rain, go away,' I barely caught my voice in the roars of thunder and pounding rain. It sounded so broken, but it was not grieved enough, it was broken because I was broken, it couldn't transmit my true pain to the world.

My grip on the blade tightened as I watched my blood drip off it's tip to the red patch of grass below me, bleeding down the new cut on my right arm, flowing freely as it mixed with the rain and polluted the soil.

I frowned.

There was no space for more. The lower half of my inner arm from wrist to elbow was lined with cuts.

Just one more.

I closed my eyes remembering when Gabriel said that the best canvas was the human body body. I didn't understand before, but I do now.

At first he made me cut fifteen lines, neat, parallel, equally spaced, then he handed me the blade and walked away.

I did the rest.

The parallels were so close together now and so many, there were also crisscrosses in the mix.

It was so beautiful, I saw it now even a my vision blurred and I made that last cut, the one that completed the pretty red picture.

The blade fell out of my hand as I slumped in the swing, my gaze at the sky.

I felt like ripping off the clouds and shattering the earth. My eyes fell on my arm, the new cut was a line that went through the middle of all the previous ones, they were now joined together.

Perfection. For once tonight, it stopped raining down my eyes, I'd hate it if people thought I was crying. It was the rain. Only the rain.

××

Dear Robin, you should hate me.

I've broken all my promises.

I've started cutting.

I've started killing.

Eventually, I'll have to kill you too.

Pleas don't hate me.

If you do. . . If I lost you too, I don't know what I'd do.

I stared at the paper in my hands, my writing looked so eerie in blood.

I laughed quietly, scratching at my bandaged arm.

I was back in white with no hint of red, everything seemed like a dream, like it never happened.

Except it did happen, I still felt the pain from my newest cuts and my chest hurt a lot more than usual.

I knew Timothy was gone, because of me.

The gleaming blade was still in my hand and for the first time I realized that it must be made out of a special material, because my blood corroded metal and was like acid to touch.

The only thing my blood didn't affect was cloth and paper, what a curious phenomenon it was. It made every beat of my heart send me waves of spine-racking pain constantly. But I deserved the pain.

Love you,

Yours always, Snow.

I decided to end the letter, that was all I needed to say to him.

'Orders are in from the boss.' Trevor walked into the room.

I continued to stare at my letter, not caring to hear what torture Gabriel planned for me next. Robin, do you hate me?

'You are to take these chemicals,' he held up a list. 'From the companies also listed.'

I shot him a glance. 'Is that all?'
Robin, do you know I love you?

'There are more instructions which he relayed to you,'

I blinked. Relayed to me? Suddenly various thoughts rushed through my mind, and a new set of memories were set in place.

'After getting the chemicals and stabilizing your system, you are to kill your final target.'

Robin, you have to kill me. I clenched the letter in my fist as Trevor said the name that made me know that Timothy's death hadn't really killed my heart. I hadn't really died yet.

'Dick Grayson.'

I have to die. I thought, determined to rectify my mistakes with this act as I tore up the letter. Before I have the chance to kill him, I have to die.

××

AN: I just realized that this story started out sort of on a happy note, now it's like this, morbid... depressing. I apologize but Shadow speaks to my inner sadness and she really needs help. Oh well, Robin's POV is up next. I want Rosha back together so badly.