Hidden, his body racks from the pain he is trying to hold in. He slides the gleaming blade over his shoulder. Here no one else would see the pale marks that would be left. A smear of crimson coloured blood flows gently down his bare brown chest, leaving rivelets of colour. He doesn't worry about anyone watching. No one would care for him. He is sitting at an isolated dirty river so that, once some of the pain is released, he might wash away the tears, blood and suffering from the day.
Satisfied with what he had done, he began to slide a shirt over his scars. He could feel the warm blood already beginning to dry to the insides of his shirt
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Selection Of Short Stories
AcakA random selection of stories that float to my head. These will be of different genres and probably won't be linked in any way. I will take requests on what to write about. Anyone can use these ideas if they would like, but I would appreciate it if...
