Painted Red
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She fell to the floor, as dry, caked-on blood was covered by a crimson flood once again. The knife clattered to the ground as the clipped, sharp echoes displayed her current state of mind. An echo, of what it once was.
Her hands cupped her face as loud, broken sobs, racked her body, as she shook with fear, desperation in her voice.
She can't be dead.
"Aria?"
She was met with silence. Her tired sore knees creaked as she stood to attempt to awake her stand-still sister,
She didn't mean to.
Nudge.
Nudge.
Shake.
Slap.
Cry.
Cry.
Cry.
Run.
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