One Page Stories.

Count.

I was sitting in my room with all the lights off and the windows open. Cold air was blowing through my light blue painted room and made my hair go across my face. My eyes were pink and a little swollen but all i could feel was the pain. I felt the burning in my lungs and like someone had beat the crap out of me. My eyes were closed and my head was tilted back against the wall as i slowly opened my eyes. Blood dripped down from my arms and i barely felt the many little scratches all decorated around my arms. I sure as hell felt and heard the blood dripping slowly onto the wooden floor staining it with crimson blood. My lip was quivering and my hands were shaking, my stomach tied in knots and someone must have smashed my hips in with a sledge hammer. I was full out shaking by the time i slid down the wall and hugged my knees to my chest. I had my eyes open and the small, sharp piece of metal between my finger tips. I felt like i was going to throw up after what i had done. I just tried to focus on counting. It was something i always did to calm myself down after i got worked up about something. I was counting in my head and started to voice it out slowly counting. 

"One.. Two.. Three.. F-four.. F-f-five.." I said as my voice wavered back and fort. My eyes slowly shut again as the pit in my stomach slowly went away and everything went dark.