Practice

Blood Red Roses

He walked into the dimly lit room without a word and shut the door with a distinct thud. He walked over to his bed and flopped onto his back, and he lay there for a long while staring at a single, indistinct point on the ceiling. After a long moment of silence, he sat up and stared at the table next to his bed eyes resting lone drawer it held, just staring. The room was dead silent, although there was only a faint sliver of moonlight that pierced the darkness of the room; it offered just enough light so that everything was dimly lit. The boy slowly reached for the drawer and slowly pulled it open. He then slowly reached in and pulled out a small piece of metal. Although he had done this many nights previously he had just stared at the blade many nights before, but something felt different, something changed tonight. He slowly walked down the hall the black hall blade in hand; he walked silently and once inside, closed the bathroom door and locked it in complete silence.