Mr. Murphy's Woodshop
- Reads 58
- Votes 0
- Parts 4
MatureOngoing6m
Last published Fri, Oct 27, 2017
He pushed me against the bandsaw and the sharp blade poked against the hem of my sweatshirt. I gasped.
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Quietly, I climbed down the rope ladder and sat with my back against the tree trunk. It was cold tonight, but I didn't care. Sighing, I pulled out my pocket knife and started blindly twirling it around. Within minuets I had a new set of cuts on my finger tips, and small droplets of blood had covered the blade. The pricks of pain felt good, but I knew it was a bad idea to continue this. Still, I kept twirling the small knife in my hands, every now and then switching to my other hand. Life was so confusing now, it wasn't even funny.
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