DNA

Chapter Thirteen

Warning: Self harm!!! If you're sensitive to this, don't read! Thank you.

The next few days were long and rainy. The group had returned to their homes and everything seemed to be normal. They would have to solve their problems eventually, but now wasn't the time. It was the day of Noir's funeral.
Lilium never knew exactly why her friend had taken his life, but she knew what she wanted. She wanted the resurrection spell. She planned to ask her father about it.
She looked at herself in the mirror by her bed. She was dressed in all black and her eyes were red from crying. The girl looked like she hadn't had sleep in many years, though it had only been about three or four days. Lilium heard her cellphone ring and she slowly walked to her dresser where the phone was resting. Her hand reached out and pressed the except button.
"Hmm?" Was all she could get out. She heard her father's voice.
"Hey, Lil. Come down, okay? We are starting the funeral."
Lilium put the phone down and walked to the window. She didn't really want to go downstairs. Maybe if she just did something she wouldn't have to deal with it. Just maybe she could get out of it. An idea came to her mind, and it wasn't one she'd be proud of.
Slowly, she crept to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. She looked intently to find something, anything that could go through flesh. Finally, her eyes landed on a broken razor. She picked it up and started running the water in the tub. She sat down and put the razor over her wrist. It took a second to make a couple cuts. She let tears flood down her face as blood drops landed on her knees. A knock on the door made her jump, the razor digging deeper into her pale arm.
"Lilium, come out!" Veta called out to her.
She didn't answer him. She took the razor off of her arm and stood up. She looked down at it and finally put it up to her neck. She didn't want to do it, but what if she did? The door opened quickly and she jumped, falling backwards. The side of her neck began hurting horribly and blood turned the water red. Soon she only saw the color she saw her whole life; the color of the tubes, her old room, her clothes she was wearing, and the color of death. Maybe she was dead now too, and there was nothing anybody could do about it. Maybe though, just maybe, they'd bring her back with the resurrection spell. If they could find it, she'd be back. But maybe they wouldn't, and for now that's all she could think of.
Perhaps she wasn't afraid of people, labs, being alone, and the color black. She was afraid of love. Maybe that's what killed her, just like it killed Noir.