<div align="center">Current Graphic (You can make me some!!):
Made by Darko at Pandorascloset
www.freewebs.com/switchbladefightsx
Check out my Freeweb for story, character, and setting info! (Could be useful when I lack vivid description...)
Current Chapters:
00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21
Total Chapters (Possible):
25 including epilogue?
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Prologue
Quote:
I pushed the razor into my skin, seeing the blood peek from around the razor and slip down the sides of my wrist, a droplet of crimson on the white tile of my bathroom floor. I sighed as I pulled the razor along my wrist, lengthening the cut. More blood. It gushed from my wrists, rivers of angst. I took the razor from that cut and placed it on another section of my wrist. I cut again. Deep and long. I gave sighs and sobs of relief. I felt ... alive. I felt ... exhilarated. It may sound odd, but I honestly felt as if I could fly at the very moment. Cut after cut after cut. Finally, I dropped the razor onto my sink, the blood staining the virgin-colored porcelain.
But ... I felt faint and weak. My knees felt as if they could give out on me. Seeing my bathroom swim before my eyes, I wondered just how much blood I had lost. Maybe I had cut too deep. Involuntarily, I fell to my knees and slumped over, my breathing coming in hard, quick gasps. I watched as the blood from my wrist poured onto the floor. As the blood filled the gaps between the tiles, flowing downwards on the slightly uneven ground.
Is this what it's like to die? I guess it's not so bad. My vision was going darker, unclear, fuzzy around the corners. I kind of liked this tunnel-vision. Maybe tt really wasn't that bad.
I didn't want this.
I wanted to know what it was like to feel alive. To feel something, anything.
Even if it was pain.
I never wanted this. Not in a million years.
I tried to count the cuts on my wrists. There were too many. Why did I put so many there? I'll tell you now, God -- I ain't that bright of a girl. Was I even going to go to heaven? Maybe this counted as suicide. That was a sin. But ... I didn’t mean to kill myself. Hell, am I even Catholic anymore?
The bright white tiles on my floor was slowly fading to a dull black. I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I closed them, slowly and painfully. I kept trying to keep them open. I tried to push myself from the floor. My arm barely moved, and it killed. I felt another gush of blood come from my cuts.
Maybe dying really wasn’t so bad.[/b]
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