When Blood Spills

Chapter 1

I lay awake in bed, staring at the grey ceiling panels that each room in the building had. An eerie moonlight glow came through the window, illuminating the little amount of belongings I own. I could see the cardboard box in one corner of the room that held my clothes, a photograph of my old family on a far wall and my bedside table next to me that held a stack of books. I was slowly getting more and more impatient. I wanted it done now. I got out of bed, walked over to the door and popped my head out. There was a huge wooden clock across from my room which said it was midnight. My heart fluttered, it was time.

I tiptoed down the hallway and over to the bathroom. The door to the washroom was huge with its paint peeling and wood splinters poking out at every angle. I don't know why but it felt welcoming, like it wanted me to do this. Here we go, try number five. I opened the door, entered and locked it behind me.

I sighed as I took in my surroundings. The orphanage I live in isn't the cleanest of places. The roof dripped with what I hope is water, there was mold in every corner of the room and the bath and toilet were cracked and yellow. I even saw a rat scamper past me as I walked to the tub.

I slowly turned the tap in the bath to cold and watched it run till full. I turned off the tap and let my night dress fall to the ground. My gaze wandered to the cracked mirror in which I saw a skinny girl with messy blond hair and scars coating her entire body. Apparently this was me, but it didn't feel like me. It felt like I was looking in a window and seeing a stranger. How did I become this?

I shook my head to remove the haunting thoughts. It will be over soon. I slowly lowered my self into the bitter water. My skin quickly went numb. Better to help with the pain. I reached over the side of the tub to retrieve a dinner knife I stole last night. Everyone knows I have multiple knifes under my bed but no one cares. The cooks think of them as less dishes to clean and all the kids take it as another excuse to keep away from me. 

A tear slid down my face as I extended my arm and bent my hand to expose the wrist. Here we go. The knife smoothly went through, deep but no pain, I'd done this too many times to feel it. Blood splattered onto the wall but did not faze me. I know this has to happen.

In just a few seconds the water turned red. Its unbelievable to think that two cuts is enough to end a life. People think that they are so strong and nothing can hurt them. It makes me feel sick. I can't take anymore of this world. Hopefully the next is better. If there is a next one.

Then I slit the other wrist and relaxed. My gaze slowly floated around the old disgusting room as it all went black. Goodbye horrible life.