Page 93 of Degradation

I shudder, trying not to think about the alternative. About hell. About being condemned to damnation for all eternity. But then – it’s can’t be any worse than what I’ve experienced to date. It can’t be.

I chew my lip, raising the blade and before I can deliberate anymore, I find the spot I’m after.

The metal feels cold, unforgiving and so very sharp as I press it against the softness of my wrist. I drag it down quickly, drag itfrom where my palm meets my wrist, till it’s halfway towards my elbow.

Jesus, it hurts. It hurts more than I’d imagined.

I gasp out, before burying my mouth into my shoulder, anxious to keep the noise down so I won’t give away what I’m up to.

Hot blood immediately starts pours out, it flows so quickly, splattering onto my thighs, no doubt cascading all onto those pretty tiles too, spreading rapidly around me.

I take the blade in my now weak hand make the same movement, telling myself that one last bit of strength, one last bit of bravery is all I need. It’s both easier and harder the second time around.

My heart slams into my chest. My body trembles and I let myself slump back, let myself relax now.

I don’t know how long it’ll take for me to bleed out. How long I will sit here, feeling my life slowly slip away, feeling as my blood pours out, as it covers the floor, as it covers me.

I just hope I have the time. I hope I can do this.

It feels almost peaceful. It feels almost healing now. My heart seems to falter, seems to slow, as if it knows this is the end, this is the point of no return and it too is happy for it.

I let out a low sigh, wishing I could be in the garden one last time, that I could smell the sea – I always wanted to. I begged so many times, and my mother never took me. I guess that’s another regret, another thing I’ll never experience.

My head feels dizzy. My thoughts start to spiral more. I feel like I’m caught between reality and a dream. I feel like I’m dancing once more, spinning, twirling, only it’s not Gunther who catches me, it’s someone else. Someone loving. Someone caring. Someone who will take me away now, who will scoop me up and tell it’s alright. That they have me, that I’m safe now and no onecan ever hurt me again. They’ll brush away my tears, soothe that fear in my bones and carry me to safety. Carry me to peace.

Why didn’t I get that? Why didn’t I deserve that?

More tears start to fall as a bitterness sets in.

I didn’t deserve this life. I didn’t deserve this pain and this suffering and any of it. I deserved to be cared for, I deserved to be loved.

Loved – the word catches in my throat, it makes my almost wail as it hits me I’ll never have that either. Never know that. It’s the one thing I would have sold my soul for, the one thing I wanted more than anything, and yet, that too has eluded me. That too has escaped me.

A wave of something washes over me. It feels cold, so very cold. I try to lift my hands to rub my arms but their too heavy and they fall back limp against my sides.

Darkness is creeping in. Darkness is coming for me.

I smile, feeling like it’s welcoming me home, welcoming me back.

And then everything just… stops.

Devin

Blood. There’s so much blood.

I slip on it, fall in it, as I scramble to get to where she’s lying.

“No,” I growl, seeing the way she’s curled up, the way she’s not moving.

She’s so cold. She’s so impossibly pale.

I slap her face, slap her hard, and to my relief her eyelids flutter for the briefest of seconds.

Both her wrists have two long, deep, cavernous wounds that stream out with blood.

I shake my head, letting out a roar, and tear my shirt off, shredding it. With the torn strips I wrap them tightly around her arms, creating tourniquets, trying to stem the blood flow.

She whimpers, shaking her head as she realises what I’m doing but she clearly doesn’t have the strength to speak.