Clay smirked at his pale reflection. Taking the red marker, he carefully drew two red X's over his eyes, and a scribbled red line across his throat on the mirror. Beautiful, he thought, gazing at his reflection.
He put the cap back on the marker, casually tossing it aside. His hands reached out as he turned and stood up, they grabbed onto the plain plastic bag he'd gotten to carry his fast food last night. He slowly and deliberately placed the bag over his head. Fumbling with his skinny fingers, he located the soft white tape on the counter and pulled some out, wrapping it quickly around his neck, securing the bag around his head.
All he could see was white.
Around and around he wrapped the tape, until he felt it was enough. The bag bellowed around his face as he unconsciously sucked in a breath, his lungs suddenly becoming more desperate for air.
And then suddenly he had sucked all the air out of the bag and his lungs felt like they were collapsing upon themselves and his finger were twitching uncontrollably and then they were tearing at the front of the bag and then he could breathe.
His whole frame shook as he took in one shuddering breath after another, the edges of the hole he'd ripped fluttering softly around his face.
Clay felt like crying; he'd fucked up again, he hadn't been able to do it properly; his body had disobeyed his wishes. He ripped the rest of the bag off, wincing only slightly when the tape was removed harshly from the thin skin on his neck.
Some other way would have to do.
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Fanfic"It was as though she'd lost her head. Forgetting any rational idea she'd had about hiding the body or disposing of the bloody rags or calling the police, she flung herself out the back door of the shop, stumbling into the dark alley. Without even b...
