A Dangerous Game | N.H [under construction]

| Chapter Thirty Eight |

It's been one of those damn days.

I walked into my house, slamming the heavy door after me making it echo throughout the empty house. The heels of my boots made loud sounds as it came into contact with the granite. I threw off my black hat that covered my head, took out the mask and ripped off my black zip up tossing it into the hamper, in the hallway leaving me in a white wife beater and dark jeans.

I trudged to the bathroom, sliding off my black finger silk gloves that were damp and sticky. I threw them into the trash bin beside the sink, like I always did. I unwrapped the tape from my knuckles and slid off the numerous rings on my fingers dropping them in a cup of cleaner on the sink I left out before I went out those hours ago. I ran the water until it was hot, running my hands under it — the blood remaining from the gloves and rings falling down the drain.

Like I said, it's been one of those fucking days.

I scrubbed my hands, to get the Crimson staining it off with a firm aggressive line on my lips. I felt frustrated, tired, angry. All things I feel after days like these, nights like these.

Once the blood was finally washed off, I cupped some water leaning down to splash my face a few times. I breathed out, shutting off the faucet grabbing a towel on the rack beside me dabbing away at my face and wiping my hands. My eyes caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, and I slowly lowered the towel from my face staring at myself.

The scowl on my face still stayed there, like it was perminantly stuck the way it was. My jaw was clenched, my brown eyes dark, darker then they usually are. I looked hallow; hallow of feelings, of remorse. I didn't recognize who I was in the mirror, something I struggled with for years now.

Most days, I hated looking at myself, because I was always ashamed and disgusted with who I saw in the reflection.

My eyes then caught a flash of red, and I lowered the towel more to see some splatters of blood on the collar of my shirt. I hastily pulled it over my head so quick I don't even know whether I dropped the towl or tossed it on the sink. I stared at the blood on it, before soaking it in the water at the sink scrubbing at the Crimson harshly. No matter how hard I scrubbed the red didn't go away, which was something I know from experiences before but I still try, hoping maybe that time it will work. The blood only turned to a yellow or orange color and the stain just got bigger.