This Blood On My Hands

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

[ Warning: Sensitive subject material ]

Blood...

There's blood everywhere. It covers my hands, winking at me from under the lights in violent crimson. Mocking me as it streams ever slowly, and yet oh so fast, in rivulets like little waterfalls down, down, down. I don't know what happened. Or maybe I do, but I can't remember right now. There's so much blood. The edges of my vision are blurring. I can see, but.....not see. That doesn't make sense I'm not making sense Why is there so much blood...!?!

The razor slips from my hands and clatters to the floor, slapping into the pool of red that is my blood. I hear it without really hearing it. It's distant, as if its far away. I don't really hear it, more like an echo of it. There's this ringing filling my ears, like static overwhelming all other noise. The razor just lays there, glinting from the lights reflection just like the blood. The blood...there's so much of it why is there so much blood!?!

I look down at my hands, are these really my hands? There's blood all over them, filling in the cups of my palms and spilling over like a too full glass. These are my hands..Shouldn't I feel the liquid filling them? Shouldn't I feel this trickling sensation as it weeps from my wrists. My wrists which are scarred and torn with the gashes of hundreds of razors previous to this day. The most recent of which are oozing blood like a geyser that just exploded.

I feel nothing. Literally. How am I standing? I look down, a bad idea, the tiled floor of our bathroom looms up at me from what appears as thousands of feet down. When did the floor get so far away? Why is there so much blood?! Did I do this? What an idiotic question. Of course I did. I did this. Just as I have millions of other times. That may be an exaggeration. Never has my cutting been so bad. I've never been so dizzy before.

I can't feel my legs now, they're so numb. Like me. Am I still standing? The floor rushes up to meet me, but I don't feel the slam of my head against tile covering concrete. I don't feel anything. I can't tell if that's good or bad. I lie on the floor now, just knowing that I'm being swarmed in a puddle of my own blood. I wonder how much blood you can loose before you start to die.

I don't know how long I lay here. I don't know how much blood surrounds me now. The razor is almost invisible, a speck of blood stained silver peeks out from where it lays practically submersed in my own blood. I can barely see it. The only reason I know what the silvery speck is, is because it lays mere inches from my face. My vision is going hazy, cloudy. Like someone's holding a film over my eyes. Its graying at the edges. Maybe I'm going blind.

There's so much blood, I see it creeping into my eye. I hope I've stopped bleeding by now. I don't want to experience the joy of my eye being filled with blood. I don't think I could close my eyes to stop it. How long have I just been staring. Dead ahead at the ridiculously white counter. My head is by the tub, my feet by the door. Not for the first time I wonder..why is there so much blood?

Did I plan on dying? I'm not sure. Part of me realized that each time I took the razor and ran it along my wrist like a dehydrated man in the Sahara Desert it would bring me just another step closer to death. Maybe that was part of the rush. Or maybe it was that I could feel. Feel anything. Anything except this null void. I was so empty. I've been so empty.

When did I stop feeling? When did my emotions just.....disappear? Its a mystery even to me. They just..left. In retrospect the cutting really probably wasn't a good idea to start in the first place. But reasoning that it was better than falling into some drug induced stupor constantly is what started it in the first place. I still believe that. There's probably more risk doing drugs than cutting. Either way they both can kill you. Both can scar you. Cutting can be hidden easier. Cutting is harsher. Instead of dulling everything, it makes it brighter. Makes you feel. Sharp, stabbing, blossoming pain.