Warnings: Blood and self-harm
Lotus Blood - Age 17
Two hour-long drives to the city weren't common for me. Especially not ones that occurred very late in the night. Keeping my eyes on the road, I was tempted to stop on the side of the road and take a nap before continuing.
Don't.
You won't get home before Blaine wakes up if you do.
The sounds of my coins falling into the metal collector at the toll toyed with my ears and I drove past to get into the city.
The city.
I had never been there.
The large buildings seemed to tower over me and looked like they would collapse and fall from the great heights they rose to. My eyes widened at the huge river running through the densely populated place, the water reflected the moonlight and lit up the streets with aid from the dim streetlamps.
I didn't drive over the bridge - only surveyed it from afar as I turned into an empty parking lot for some sort of bakery along the water's edge. The bridge I could drive over had sidewalks lining the edges of the two-way street, and I spied that only a cement railing protected the people walking and the watery depths of the river below.
Not many people were out walking this late at night, but a specific woman was sitting along the wide cement railing - her pixie-cut pink hair was pushed back and stood out from her deep blue hoodie and black leggings.
Push her.
And in a split second, I had shoved April off the cliff edge and down into the watery depths of the raging waterfall. Her screams echoed in my head and immediately my mind began to fill up with words and phrases, screaming, screaming, so much screaming, it's too loud, too loud, too loud, too loud - shut up. Shut up, Shut up!
Push her.
The intrusive thoughts plagued my mind and the only thing I needed right then and there was murder. I needed her to die. Whether I knew her or not.
Do it.
What the worst that could happen?
She'll die.
My fingers curled at my sides and the knife hidden under my hoodie burned through my clothing, pleading for me to use it instead.
And if she doesn't die after you push her?
Grinding my teeth, I pulled the hood over my head and unsheathed the knife slowly - my mind racing with the idea of drowning her instead. She sat there - unassuming and enjoying the calm night while I stood behind her. Knife in hand. Fingers yearning for carnage.
Do it.
Her blood-curdling scream pricked my ears and the blood running off her limp body spattered the concrete and parts of the bridge. Emotionless, I heaved her body away from the sights of blood and slung her purse over my shoulder while I dragged her to my car.
Closing her eyes, I maneuvered her into my trunk and made sure to tuck her in the body bag so the excessive blood wouldn't ruin the inside of my car. Her purse was at my disposal so I tentatively opened it to find maybe her driver's license or something - her phone was the newest model and I flipped it over to see her license inserted neatly into the case. Wiping my bloodstained fingers on my jacket I read her license out to myself, "Diana."
Twenty-four years old.
Staring back at the open body bag containing the dead woman I shrugged and zipped up the bag before shutting the trunk. Holding her purse, I located her credit card and smiled at the convenience store that was lit up invitingly - I need air freshener.
The small bell rang when I opened the door, I kept my head downcast as I picked up a small Febreze bottle and scissors and made my way to the cashier. Hoping she wouldn't notice the bloody fingerprints on the small can, the woman at the counter scanned both items and said the price.
What was it?
I can't remember.
Blindly handing her Diana's credit card, she swiped it and pushed the air freshener and scissors towards me before giving back the credit card and mumbling a short, "have a good night!", before I left the store.
I sat on the cracking curb and sliced open the pack of scissors with my dirty knife. The scissors were only for the purpose of cutting up Diana's credit card - I wasn't a totally horrible person and I didn't think exploiting a dead person's money was the nicest thing to do. So, I cut that pale blue credit card into long strips and littered them behind me as I walked back to my car.
Like someone who has good intentions would.
I threw Diana's purse in the passenger seat, spraying the new air freshener around the car despite me still wearing the smell of blood and death like perfume. My eyes fluttered open and close from lack of sleep, and I fought the idea of pulling over on the side of the road and taking a short nap before continuing the hour left of my ride home.
So close to home.
Ringing.
Why is it so loud?
Everything is so loud.
Too loud.
Spinning.
I'm spinning in circles.
Alone.
It's loud.
Breathing heavily, I pulled into the garage and turned off the engine and stumbled out of the car - feeling around to grasp something as dots blurred my vision. The last thing on my mind was Diana, I needed to get inside, get home, get in my bed, get some sleep.
It hurts.
It's louder now.
The ringing.
The feeling of guilt.
Or is it the pain in my heart?
Or the scars in my head?
Why is it so fucking loud?
My fingers began to shake furiously as I tripped up the stairs even while clutching the banister with all my strength. The hardwood bashed my knees as I collapsed onto the landing but I didn't feel the pain that would soon spread from my legs to my arms.
I can't feel my fingers.
As I pull back my sleeve
I can't feel my wrists.
As I make the sixth slit.
I can't feel the blood dripping down my hands.
Or the feeling of it smeared across my face.
As I wipe away the tears.
To the back of my hand.
I feel nothing.
-----------------------
yayy its late sorry
YOU ARE READING
Finger Painting
Mystery / Thriller"I WORE THE SMELL OF BLOOD AND DEATH LIKE PERFUME" I may have been angry at my mother and brother - but I was angrier at myself. Angry for the person I knew I was becoming. Drip. "One thousand nine hundred eighty-four." I felt it and I knew I couldn...
