The Droplet Curse

3

There was this feeling, these voices, those noises that screamed. There was a fear.

Steve's hand shakes heavily, he shuffles to the kitchen like a paralysed zombie. His eyes almost shut as the dizziness caused by a heavy headache embraced him. He pushes his hand gently against the wall and let it guide him closer towards the kitchen.

'You're a worthless freak, James doesn't love you. He'll never love you. He's better off without you. Kill yourself, nobody would miss you. Nobody would ever think and remember you. You're a freak. You killdd a guy and your school friend is an insane monster that killed your best friends girlfriend and almost killed the boy itself. End yourself. Put that imaginary trigger and stab yourself with that stupid meatknife hidden in the drawer.' The voice in Steve's head goes on and on. The words stream like a waterfall...

The ground is turning black, the walls are turning black but there is one shiney white line onto the floor... It leads him. Steve follows the bright guidely line.

Steve stops. A small distance in front of him is the drawer... shining white/yellow light comes from it as his shakey hand opens it.

knives.
spoons..
forks...

His fingers move through the metal. looking and feeling for a sharp object.

drip.

A pinch of pain runs through Steve's nerves as his finger touches a blade. He grabs it and looks at the small cut in his finger leaking blood.

Adrenaline starts to go through, the voices and sounds disappear in a haze of silence.

His nearly closed eyes stare at the knife being held in his silly scarred hand.

He takes a shaky breathe. Closes his eyes completely and stabs himself with a strong force.

Nothing.

Feelings disappear. A bit of a twinkly feeling in his fingertips is everything he feels...

The loss of poswer...

Steve's legs can't hold him up... He sinks to the floor.

A shock taking breathe.

Cold. It is cold... energy leaves, the cold kitchenfloor comes through his skin. His head resting on the tales...

Opening eyes.

A disappointing view is beig seen... the kitchen table.. wood, a piece of furniture. A square piece of wood stands in front.

Swallowing.

A weak cough leaves his mouth, mixed with blood from his organs.. mixed with salvia and hope.

Death... it'll come for him. It'll take him.

"J..James..." Steve whispers weakly and filled with guilt as the voice in his head laughs evilly at him.