Emil's POV
Tears roll down my face, more slicing felt as the cool metal razor rolls against my wrist. Blood pooling onto the floor, covering my skin, clothing, and bed. The room smelling like iron and salt. My tears falling into the open cuts, stinging slightly. My world growing darker, I fade away, hopefully for once and for all.
"Kveðja grimmur heimur"
YOU ARE READING
Who am I? {DenIce}
Fiksi PenggemarA short DenIce story involving blood loss, followed by amnesia.
