The Sweetest Death

Three+

© Amber Kalkes 2014

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 *Self harm in this chapter.

Three+

I wake up to the view of darkness. This is normal these days. My eyes aren’t puffy or red like they would normally be after the amount of crying I did last night due to my new healing abilities. Its like nothing ever happened at all though the turmoil in my brain tells me differently. Her last words play over in my head on a record, tormenting me.

And with Henry on both of our behinds I do not doubt her words.

Everything is crashing down on me and I want nothing more than to escape it all, even for a little while. Removing myself from Edgar’s grasp on me he doesn’t even stir from his position due to the sun being up. I can feel the sluggishness in my own body as well, this is supposed to be our time of rest, the daytime but I can’t. Not with Josette’s blood stained smirk haunting my every nightmare.

My feet pad towards the bathroom where I’ve hidden a relic of my past, the before Edgar time. Digging into my personal drawer in the bathroom I produce the small wooden box, once my treasure box of razor blades, from it’s hiding place. It’s been keeping me calm knowing its so close to me, just in case. Over the past four months since my turn I haven’t even attempted it while living in the bliss of our lives.

But reality is closing in on me and I need this.

I need something I can control.

Something I can handle.

Sitting on the lip of the large freestanding porcelain claw foot tub I slowly open the lid of it. Inside sit three trapezoid shaped pieces of metal gleaming in the fairly bright lights of the bathroom. Picking one up gingerly I inspect it with my now more precise eyes. I can still see blood on it from the last time I used this one and my human tainted scent still clings to it. Looking down at my arms I notice how much better they look.

Gone are the odd discolored markings and now sit the same patterned scars but now blended into the snow-like pallor of my skin. Still the area has raised area from when I really dug into the flesh in my moments of mental agony. Sliding into the empty bathtub I can feel the cool material of the tub on my bare legs and even through one of Edgar’s t-shirts on my back. Closing my eyes I let the metal lay on the bare skin of my wrist.

The metal bites as I took bite on my lower lip, my fangs slicing into the pink.

I pop open my eyes as the feeling of euphoria starts then stops as quickly as it began. What? Looking down I see the blade is covered in my blood on the tip and has even leaked a little into the tub but the skin is…unmarked. You can’t even tell I did anything. Shocked and unsure I begin slicing the razor over my arm over and over and over again. It heals so fast that I can barely feel the pain, barely feel the rush, and barely know the pleasure of control.

Blood falls to the belly of the tub but nothing on me. It’s like it never even happened. More drops fall into the pure white of the tubs interior as tears not fall down my cheeks in frustration. I’m indestructible. I can’t hurt myself anymore. I can’t feel what I need to so I can get through the turmoil in my brain.

What am I going to do?

Is there anything to do?

Pounding sounds on the bathroom door making me jump and drop the razor blade in my grasp. “Shoshanna, I smell blood, what are you doing?”