101 Reasons Why

The Knife

It was two months after I had buried Speckles. My family had torn our old house down, and was rebuilding one in the same place so that I would have to be haunted, by that night, for the rest of my life. At the moment, I had been living at my Grandparents place because they only lived a couple blocks away. It was the easiest place to go since it was close enough for me to go to the same school, and for my father to get to work. My mother could still have tea with her friends, and all our presence did was put a slightly heavier burden on my old, frail relatives. But, my parents could care less if they intruded. All they cared about was each other and money.

 That night like always I was lying on my temporary bed in my temporary room. I stared at the ceiling while I cried myself to sleep. But, this time no matter what i tried i couldn't do it. I couldn't close my eyes and venture off into a dream because I no longer dreamed, but envisioned nightmares. So, I got up and walked down stairs to get a glass of water. I was hoping that the cool refreshment would calm me down and get me out of my hysteria. I filled the glass slowly from the sink, and what I saw in the reflection of the water was a girl whose eyes were shot red. Her hair was mangled and grey. Her cheeks were irritated by the unforgiving tears that rolled over them every night. I was looking around when I saw it. The set of knives my grandmother used for cooking and decided that my twisted heart should beat no longer. My parents wouldn't care if i'm gone. If anything they would probably rejoice because of the money they would have made from my life insurance. I gently placed the glass on the counter and shakily extended my hand until it was firmly grasped around the black handle. I wanted to join Speckles I wanted to be with my friend again. Slowly I brought the knife towards my side and penetrated the skin. Excruciating pain filled my body and I had let out a scream of agony. I pulled out the knife and saw the bright red that coated it. The knife shimmered from the moonlight that was coming through the small kitchen window. The knife too looked happier than I. I then slowly began to fall to the floor. My vision went black, but I could faintly make out the sight of my mother running down the stairs.