Fullmetal Blood

Cuts

We're having a peaceful night at my house. Not. I spent the evening silently crying and slitting my wrists with my pocket knife. Just two cuts. But deep ones at that. One for Nina. One for Alexander. I wrap my arm in toilet paper and "go to sleep."

I wake up from a nightmare. A horrid nightmare. A bent and twisted dream. My dead brother. The truth. Nina. Alexander. Dead Edward. Mom and Dad trying to kill me. Running for my life. All the times I failed at finding the Philosophers' Stone.

It's midnight. Literally on the dot. I get up and lock the door. Silent tears run down my face.

And I take the blade back out. I pull off the toilet paper. The wounds leak from last time. Stupid. I should've done my hip. Then they wouldn't be able to be seen. Idiot.

My own hurtful words haunt my mind, repeating over and over again.

Stupid. Idiot. Bitch. Whore. BASTARD.

The last one especially. Because I am.

Crimson blood leaks from the wounds as I slice more and more.

Inconvenience.

Another pain filled memory leads to another cut and more blood.

My cries turn to loud sobs of hurt and pain, and I don't even worry about my household hearing me.

I'm nothing.

Memories add more fuel to the brightly burning flames that are consuming me.

People bang on my door, the most prominent voice being Edward's.

"Elisa, are you okay? Open the door!" Ed yells and hits the door again.

I scream louder, heart breaking sobs ripping through my throat.

And then someone breaks down my door.

I'm sitting on my knees on the floor in a puddle of blood screaming loudly as my feelings consume my entire being,

End it all.

My cries stop and I look at the bloody blade, unaware of my name being called loudly.

I raise the blade and hold it up to my neck, looking in the mirror at my own reflection.

Blood drips from my right wrist, but not enough for me to bleed to death. My medium length black hair is messy and my eyes are puffy and red from tears.

A gasp comes from my shaking form as I look at the blade in my hand, all covered in my blood. I was really going to kill myself.

Shaking violently and breathing heavily, I scream loudly and throw the knife, weeping harshly.

Ed, seeming to come out of the trance all the household is in at the door, runs over to me, his eyes locking with mine before diving at me and hugging me tightly. He doesn't seem to care that my blood is getting on his clothes or that I'm in just a tank top and underwear.

All he seems to care about is that I'm in his arms alive and breathing.

"Elisa," Mom's eyes well with tears as she rushes over to hug us.

"Why, baby?" Daddy joins the pile.

"You should've come to me," Eli is on top of us as well.

Tears trickle from my father and brother's eyes. Mom's crying softly. Tears fall from Ed's golden eyes as well.

I hide my face in his chest and cry softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you all. I didn't want to worry you," I look up into Ed's eyes.

Ed takes my right wrist and wipes away the blood from the wounds.

"Let's get this taken care of," Daddy says, eyeing the wounds. They help me to my feet and walk me to the restroom.

Daddy sits me on the sink and Ed and Eli lay their hands gently on my knees as Mom washes my wounds with water and puts a little alcohol to clean any germs away. Which makes me flinch slightly from the sting. Everyone looks at me with a look of sympathy.

"Sorry, baby, but I don't want these to get infected," Mom says as she wraps my wrist with white bandages.

"It's fine, Mom. I've felt worse," I say as I look at the floor.

The whole group seems to sigh simultaneously. Ed kisses my forehead. Dad doesn't even protest.

"Elie, I want you to know that I care and love you, and don't you forget that," Ed says as he hugs me tightly.

"Elisa," Mom starts. "If it's okay with Edward, I would like you to sleep with him tonight,"

Dad practically explodes, "Wha???"

Eli steps in, "Mom has a point." We all turn towards him. "If Elisa's with Ed, she can't cut. He'd make her feel loved and she'll also feel safe."

Then we all turn to Ed. "Um, yeah. As long as Colonel Mustang doesn't kill me . . ." Ed trails off.

Dad sighs, "For Elisa."

"For Elisa," Ed, Eli, and Mom echo.

"We'll sleep in my room tonight," Ed holds me.

"I'll clean up her . . . blood, now," Mom says, hesitant to mention what I've done to myself.

Eli hugs me, "Don't forget, Ellie. You always have me."

"Sleep well, beautiful," Dad hugs me close.

'I love you's are exchanged and Ed walks me to his bedroom.

He sets me in his bed. He's in his underwear and tank top.

He climbs in bed. And he pulls me close. I press my face into his chest.

His voice breaks the comfortable silence, "Elisa . . ."

I look up at his face. He's about to cry.

"Don't you scare me like that again. I love you too much to lose you," he pulls me in tighter. "Please. Come to me. If you wanna pick up a weapon and hurt yourself, come to me. I don't care if it's 10 at night or 2 in the morning. Wake me up. Let me hold you. Let me comfort you. But don't hurt yourself."

And I cry. I grab him tightly with my left arm and cry into his chest. He strokes my hair smoothly.

"I, I will," I whisper.

"Good," his arm muscles press into me, tightening around me even more. His body heat hits my body and his hair, down from his braid, tickles my nose.

"I love you, Elie," Ed breathes.

"I love you too," I listen to his heartbeat and slip into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Love heals all wounds and conquers the darkest and most shattered of hearts.