I walk along the walls of the mansion and slip through the window that's always unlocked.
I always go here to escape. Plan my next steps. It's always sad in here. The golden light reflects off the walls inside from the sunset. Tethered and torn.
I run my hand past the rough wallpaper as I slowly walk up the stairs and down the hall to the third bedroom on the left.
This is my room. Everything is set up perfectly, just as I left it.
I look to the closet where the noose is hanging; swaying side to side gently from the cool breeze entering the room from the broken window.
I look to the right and see the table with all my stolen possessions.
A nice collection of knives that vary in size, one chainsaw, one hand saw, thirteen razors, four hammers, a baseball bat, a Smith & Wesson, twenty-six feet of rope, some barb wire, and a box full of nails.
All neat and organized. It isn't much to look at yet. I'm still collecting.
I walk over to the table and skim over my choices for tonight.
My hand hovers over the hand saw and I decide that this will do. I gently grasp the handle and examine it as I head over to my bed and sit down.
I flip it around and glide my finger over the teeth, looking at my reflection on the blade.
"It's time to begin." I whisper to myself.
I pull up my sleeves and pick the spot I want. Just a little ways down my wrist.
I take the saw and slightly apply pressure to make sure I don't cut my hand off. Just like I learned in wood shop, I point the nose down and make my first mark. Then I glide across bringing the blade down.
I make myself a pretty, red bracelet.
I get up and place the hand saw down and push the bed about 4 feet over to reveal the little trap door.
I reach for the saw and make a deep cut on my hand. I cup my hand as the blood starts to gather.
I slide open the small, rectangular window and squeeze my fist over it. My blood streaming down into the dark pit.
I hear them desperately fighting over each drop. Snaps and screams echoing up for my eardrums. I giggle and say goodnight as I return the bed to its original position.
I head over to my closet and stand on the chair. I place the noose over my head and feel the texture prick my skin.
I can't die. I think. If I do then who will feed them?
I climb down, head over to the bed to retrieve my saw, clean it up, and set it back on the table. Nice and neat.
Fuck it. I grab the five inch knife and bring it down on my stomach. Again and again and again and again and again and again and again.
Blood spews out from my mouth in gurgles. I try to laugh. I can hear my loves screaming for me to stop. Clawing at the walls. I continue to laugh. I continue to bleed. I continue up to my neck. Fuck it. Skin sliced open, you can't see much inside when red clouds your vision.
I'm sorry to disappoint, my loves. Now you will go hungry and resort to consuming one another. Survivor will start to rip at their own flesh. Sit and rip out their kneecaps. Twist the ankle till it snaps off. Start to chew on the arm and slurp up the blood. Veins stuck in between their teeth. All because I got bored of this game and keeping you alive meant nothing to me anymore. You helped me survive and you helped my dimise.
Like a jawbreaker, eat your eyes.
