His body spasmed and he awoke from his restless sleep. He flopped to his side, his artificial night light still illuminating the small bedroom. His eyes caught sight of the bright numbers that shone on his alarm clock, 3A.M. it read. He pleaded to the heavens for a wink more of sleep, but he knew his prayers were useless. He slipped his fingers out onto the bed side table and grabbed the razor that he had become all-too-familiar with. He sat on the edge of his bed and placed the tip of the razor to his forearm. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment type thing; this feeling had been dragging him down for, what seemed like, his whole life. The bright red that flowed from his wrists seemed to make him feel alive. He pulled a tissue out and dabbed the blood away, only to make more gashes, surfacing more blood. The metallic smell began to fill the room and his mind began to feel light and blurry; he couldn't stop now. He had waited so long for this night, this 3A.M.
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Short Stories
Short StoryAlmost 200 short stories to get your blood pumping, your skin crawling and your mind racing. Nostalgic, interesting, current, real-life experiences in a creative form. *disclaimer: some of these short pieces reference issues such as mental illness...
