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THERE IS BLOOD IN HIS HANDS; red, tick blood falling against his fingers and for a moment, everything he sees is only red and red—an ocean of red water drowning him. The waves are tall enough to lose the world, and he can almost hear them laugh when they cover his body and he is suddenly red too, so red that he doesn't recognize himself under it.
He doesn't know why blood is so red.
The woman in front of him gives him a quiet look. Blood has always been red, she tells him, and he feels the need to scream and say: But why? You can't live with all that color inside.
The room is quiet. She's not answering back, how could she? Her eyes are open, but she has never seen other than what she wished to, why would she do it now when all is just red and red and red? Even he has turned into red too, while kneeling in front of her and trying to understand the red in her chest, getting the color stick in his body.
Red, red, red— He shakes his head, though the red is still there and he is sure it won't go so easy. He has to do something with her. The bed, he suddenly thinks. She would look like if she's sleeping.
Her body is light in his hands, but even with the slightly movement he feels something wrong in his steeps. Perhaps it's the blood and its color, or the fact that he's been crying for the past few hours, since he discovered the red ocean. He decides not to think on it, better focusing in leaving her in the first dorm he finds unlocked.
He tries to cover her body, but when he does it, the white silk is quickly painted in red. No one would ever believe she's sleeping, but he can. If he closes his eyes and pretends she's not there anymore, then the blood is gone too. It's like it has never existed.
It takes him more than what he has expected to close the door.
He sighs, looking at his read hands. It's all over, he mutters to himself. You can start to forget.
Some minutes pass. The big clock in the hall announces midnight.
He sighs again, deeper than the one before. Now, he only has to do the same with the rest of them.
