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Stitches

Stitches

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WpMetadataReadComplete Sat, Apr 9, 20165m
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Fiction
Mystery
The first time the wrens sang at night was three years ago, when I used a rusty saw to cut off Pa's left foot. The birds drowned out his screams. Wrens don't normally sing after sunset, but I wasn't surprised by it. I soon came to realize that the rain always accompanied the dismembering days, as did the wrens.
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#415
stitches
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''What are you doing?'' He asked. ''Why didn't you tell me?'' I wasn't able to speak. I didn't tell him about it.. I didn't want to tell him that I cut. But he caught me. '' I-I'm sorry...'' I cried. He took my blade, and slit his wrist. ''Josh, what are you doing?'' I screamed. ''It hurts to see someone doing it, uh?'' another cut. ''Stop please!'' I was crying and screaming, I didn't know what to do. He threw the blade on the floor and got out of the bathroom.

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