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River of Red - TRIGGER WARNING
The knife gleamed as a strip of moonlight struck it, sending flashes of light bouncing around the black walls of Jesse’s bedroom.
Jesse smiled a bitter smile as he traced the skin of his arm with the blade. A river of red followed the silver edge, also shining bright in the light of the moon. A faint grunt escaped his clenched teeth as his hand pressed down harder, desperate to make the river wider, deeper.
The blade cut the deepest at the very end of the stripe, mere inches from where his largest veins stretched at his inner elbow. He held his hand still, the tip of the blade remaining inside the wound.
Further.
The blade slid forward easily, cutting more layers of skin and flesh.
His hand stilled.
Stop being a coward. Death is what you want.
The blade slid a bit more.
A faint voice reached Jesse’s ears, gentle and young. The voice was singing the lullaby his mother used to hum while smelling her roses. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his emerald eyes, letting the sweet sound soak in.
Emma.
She’d be better off without you.
He flinched.
They’ll all be happier once you’re gone.
A tear slid down his cheek and over his trembling jaw.
They’ll all be happier once I’m gone.
Keeping his eyes closed, he slowly continued to move the knife further up his arm. Greater waves of pain swept over him as the tip of the blade dug deeper, closer to the ocean. . .
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as the lullaby came to an end just as he was beginning to feel the immense loss of blood take effect.
It’s almost over. . .
“Brother!”
He jumped, grimacing slightly as the blade slid deeper without his command.
A joyous giggle drifted from the other side of the wall.
“I love you, Brother!” his sister called.
Jesse stopped trembling.
He looked down at himself, at the knife that was still lodged into his arm. Blood was spilling from the wound, dripping onto the floor, creating a small puddle. The puddle would grow until it crossed his room and he became a body floating in a lake of red.
And his sister would find him that way.
A sharp sound rang aloud as the knife hit the stone floor.
He quickly grabbed a nearby cloth and pressed it against his wound, ignoring the pain.
He then leaned back against the wall. “I love you, too, pumpkin,” he called back to her.
A giggle, softer this time, was her response.
He closed his eyes.
I can’t leave her.
© Kayla Minder
Jesse smiled a bitter smile as he traced the skin of his arm with the blade. A river of red followed the silver edge, also shining bright in the light of the moon. A faint grunt escaped his clenched teeth as his hand pressed down harder, desperate to make the river wider, deeper.
The blade cut the deepest at the very end of the stripe, mere inches from where his largest veins stretched at his inner elbow. He held his hand still, the tip of the blade remaining inside the wound.
Further.
The blade slid forward easily, cutting more layers of skin and flesh.
His hand stilled.
Stop being a coward. Death is what you want.
The blade slid a bit more.
A faint voice reached Jesse’s ears, gentle and young. The voice was singing the lullaby his mother used to hum while smelling her roses. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his emerald eyes, letting the sweet sound soak in.
Emma.
She’d be better off without you.
He flinched.
They’ll all be happier once you’re gone.
A tear slid down his cheek and over his trembling jaw.
They’ll all be happier once I’m gone.
Keeping his eyes closed, he slowly continued to move the knife further up his arm. Greater waves of pain swept over him as the tip of the blade dug deeper, closer to the ocean. . .
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as the lullaby came to an end just as he was beginning to feel the immense loss of blood take effect.
It’s almost over. . .
“Brother!”
He jumped, grimacing slightly as the blade slid deeper without his command.
A joyous giggle drifted from the other side of the wall.
“I love you, Brother!” his sister called.
Jesse stopped trembling.
He looked down at himself, at the knife that was still lodged into his arm. Blood was spilling from the wound, dripping onto the floor, creating a small puddle. The puddle would grow until it crossed his room and he became a body floating in a lake of red.
And his sister would find him that way.
A sharp sound rang aloud as the knife hit the stone floor.
He quickly grabbed a nearby cloth and pressed it against his wound, ignoring the pain.
He then leaned back against the wall. “I love you, too, pumpkin,” he called back to her.
A giggle, softer this time, was her response.
He closed his eyes.
I can’t leave her.
© Kayla Minder
