Driven by Suicide

The smell of blood; it was only bittersweet, with a thick scent coming from her wrists. Lilian took the small blade from her drawer and reopened the scars she tried so hard to hide.

"I don't feel like living anymore," A mischievous boy mimicked something Lily had said to herself the other day, in a mocking voice. She didn't bother to turn to her neighbor.

He frowned and pulled himself through her bedroom window.

"Please go away, I don't need you here Andy." She tried to push him out of her way. Then he kissed the fresh cuts and took away the blade, fiddling with his sweatshirt's sleeves.

Andy pulled up the cloth and she didn't speak.