Short Stories

Watch your words

She stood. She couldn't move. She was paralyzed with shock. A large butchers knife was gripped in her blood covered shaking hand. She could smell the blood. Even the metallic taste filled her mouth. She took a step back. She couldn't stand it. She tripped on the kitchen stood behind her. She fell and landed in a puddle of blood. It made a squelching sound and splashed all over her once clean clothes. She started to panic. Her father was bound to be home soon. She tried scrambling away on all fours but landed back on her behind. The knife fell to the floor with a clash. The sound echoed throughout the whole house breaking the eerie silence momentarily. She didn't know what to do. It wasn't like she was frequently in this position. Maybe she could try cover it up. Maybe she could even turn herself in. Tears sprung to her eyes. Each one crawled down her blood stained face. Her mother didn't go down with a fight, you see. That infuriated her further. She had been pushed around, put down, completely ruined by her mother. Sometimes it just takes one more little nudge to push someone over the edge. And look here. That's exactly what happened. Now she was sat in the kitchen corner. Blood soaking through her clothes. Blood splattered up the walls. Blood still seeping from her mothers lifeless body sprawled across the floor. Blood on the knife that an hour ago seemed to fix all her problems. What a mistake. She hadn't planned it. A week ago she would've scoffed at the idea of killing her mother over one simple little argument that pushed her that little bit too far. Her mother deserved it though; didn't she? Mother or not, no ones ever in the right position to treat someone like dirt, make them feel like dirt. This mother didn't understand that. Falling back into reality she heard the front door rattle. She had an idea. She sprung to the knife, coated in her mothers coagulated blood. She took a deep breath in, and without another hesitation she gashed open her forearms. Quickly she also carved deep gashes into her thighs. The thighs her mother had called fat. The thighs she hated ever so much. The thighs that touched no matter how much exercise and limited eating she forced upon herself. The thighs that started half her self esteem problems. They looked skinnier now though. As the blood poured from them. As they where almost in half. Her body became lifeless pretty damn quickly. And as her father opened the front door he was wishing he was lifeless himself.

------------------A/N-----------------

I don't even know. I guess I tried to put a message behind this. Be careful of what you say. It can really impact someone's life. Look at where this girl ended up. All because her mother had picked and prodded at her for years. Her mother was forever disappointed because her daughter wasn't good enough; her daughter was a failure, a disappointment, an embarrassment. No matter who you are; you have no say in how someone's life goes. You have no right to tell them they're too fat, too ugly, too whatever. They are who they are. You can't take that away from them. They don't deserve half the shit they get.

Think before you speak, please.