Predator

Chapter Twelve

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My skin almost hisses when it hits the scalding water. Good. That means I'm feeling something.

I never thought it would come to this. I always thought that I'd be stronger than whatever life threw at me, that I'd never take the coward's way out. But here we are. I guess I really am a coward.

I settle down into the tub, my body practically screaming to be cooled off, but I ignore it. Like I said, it makes me feel something. Thick steam rises up around me; I can't help but compare myself to soup and it makes me laugh a little though I'm still crying. I can already see my skin turning red under the burning water.

My heart beats so loudly that I can hear it, as I take the razor into my fingers. I can hear my uneven breathing as I raise it to my wrist. It's now or never.

Slowly, I glide it along the smooth skin until it breaks with an angry sting. Aah! I cry out involuntarily at the pain. Bubbles of crimson spurt up from the neat line; they shimmer in the light as if taunting me. So I run the blade over it again and drop my wrist into the water, a cloud of red blossoming upon impact. It's actually quite pretty.

I repeat this with my other wrist and watch, my sobbing becoming more frantic, as the bath water becomes a tinted pink. Oh my god, I actually did it! Oh my god, I'm going to die!

Then it occurs to me.

I'm a murderer!

I'm murdering my own baby! I hadn't thought about that way! What will happen to it after I bleed out, will it die slowly and painfully?! Oh, the poor thing! I don't want my baby to suffer! And now it's too late!

I bring my knees up to my chest, soaked with the stained water, and I weep against them pitifully. I'm going to hell for killing my child! Oh, please let God understand! I'm sparing it from a horrible life, I don't mean to be cruel! Please God, please don't let it suffer!

I wonder how long this is going to take. I already feel dizzy and nauseous from the blood loss, or maybe it's the crying, but maybe I should make a deeper cut! I just want this to be over with!

"Rachel?"

My head shoots up. What the hell is Mr. Schuester doing here?! I hear the front door slam and his heavy footsteps on the floor below. "Rachel!" he calls again.

I'm not going to respond to him. I bury my face back into my knees, still crying, and pray that God will just take me soon. I locked the door  to the bathroom so he can wait out there for me to die.

How does he know where I live? What the- oh yeah, he drove me home back in October, back when I was obsessing over him. Doing the things that got me into this situation in the first place. What a stupid little bitch I was. But I guess I still am.

The water is gradually turning a darker color with my blood, and the metallic smell is now evident. I can't believe that this is how I'm going to die! I'm going to be dead in a short while, dead! And no one's even going to miss me! It's a strange feeling knowing that this bathroom is the last thing I'm going to see, these thoughts I'm thinking are the last things I'll ever think. What are my last words? Congratulations? Damn. I wish it was something more meaningful.

"Rachel!"

He's outside of the bathroom door now, I can tell from his voice. Why does he care if I die? Is he so hellbent on getting a kid? Actually, he probably knows that he's the reason behind all of this and just doesn't want to live with the guilt, doesn't want my blood on his hands. So I keep ignoring him and I cry, I cry as loud as I want. I don't care about hiding my tears anymore. I watch them drop into the water, making little, even ripples. And I think he hears me because the door knob jiggles loudly.