I’d stashed the knife there, long before, when I first tried to cut my veins open and felt the incredible feeling of the life draining away. But then my mom had to come in at that exact moment. Obviously, she’d freak and locked up everything that could be turned into a weapon. The knives, the pills, and the mirrors in the house disappeared in a day, and she sent me to see a shrink. Not that it helped anyway. None of it helped. The shrink was easy to fool, I pretty much just had to smile a lot and tell her that ‘life was just wonderful’ and that ‘I was really better’. She just drank it all up, nodding with that stupid smile of hers. In a matter of weeks, she’d met my mom and told her I was perfectly fine, that we no longer required her services.
As for the weapons, it couldn’t have been easier to get my hands on another dagger and hide it from her eyes. The only problem was that she’d taken off her work for a while, making it her job to watch my every move and to follow me everywhere around the house and out. And that’s where the real lying started.
See, if my mom wouldn’t have walked in on me that day, I could have already be gone now, the pain long forgotten.
I took the little dagger in my hand, spinning it slowly, watching as the steel of the blade caught the light that filtered through my window. It was a rather beautiful one, the wooden handle a golden brown, carved with delicate designs of hearts. My heart was bleeding, filling my chest with toxic blood that would slowly choke me to death.
I put the blade to my wrist, slicing the fragile skin with the slightest pressure. I watched as the blood welled up, already running down my hand to my fingertips. I closed my eyes, savoring the stinging sensation in my hand as I flexed my bloody fingers. I took the knife up again, gashing my skin again, this time a little deeper. I leaned back in my bed, concentrating on the pain, only this pain and nothing else in the world. Just the pain and me.
My head started fogging up as I lay there, dazed. It’s almost like a drug to me; it numbed everything else, made things so much easier when there was too much to handle. At least for a little while, that is. It never lasted, as much as I wanted it to. I’d tried to make the cuts deeper, but it was never deep enough.
That damn artery; it was buried too deep in my fucking arm. So I tried the pills. But I couldn’t find anything at home. I raked through all the drawers of the bathroom to find something―anything― but my mom hid them well... too well. And so I made some research and walked to the pharmacy one day after school to pick up some pills that would do the job. When I walked back, I smiled to everyone that I crossed; convinced it was my last day. But, when I arrived home, I had just the time to stash the bag under my bed; I heard the front door open and my mom calling my name. When I came back later, they weren’t there anymore. That’s the mystery, no one came in my room, and I’d been stuck with my mom so she couldn’t have sneaked out to my room. It just disappeared. I was so pissed that I almost just ran outside to find the nearest bridge that I could jump off. But, on second thought, with all the luck I had these days, maybe it wouldn’t have even do the job and I would probably end up in a mental hospital somewhere. So I decided to suck it up and wait a while. On the deadline, the 27th of February―my birthday― if it wasn’t already done, I would end my life, whatever the price of it. I circled the date in my calendar in big red marker, my own, personal reminder.
I glanced at it now, the red striking against the white paper, hanging from my wall. The edges faded slightly, I was swaying dangerously close to unconsciousness. It didn’t happen that often to me, usually only when I was really tired. I didn’t actually think I was that tired, but then again, I never thought I was tired.
I relaxed my muscles, trying to make myself comfortable. My head was rolling to side to side, ever so slightly, and suddenly, warmth flooded my body. I sighed happily; it was so much better than that icy cold that gripped my body. Slowly, my surrounding was being replaced by a golden bright light. I couldn’t see anything, just gold, infinite gold. I closed my eyes and opened them again, trying to shake it off, but it stayed, brighter still. Something brushed my arm. I tried to jerk my arm back but my body wouldn’t respond to me.
Maybe I’m dying, the thought was fleeting through my mind. I stayed surprisingly calm as the touch came again, sliding against my skin. It was soft and delicate. Feathery, almost. I smiled as it settled around me, enveloping my body with the pleasant sensation and closed my eyes, completely abandoning to it.
End of chapter
Continue to next chapter Golden Wings- Chaper 7 Part1Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
141,415 Literary Works • 674,393 Reviews
Wow, so that's the deal with the knife...
I'm not sure what to make of this. I get it, teenager angst and all that, but isn't that a bit of an over-reaction. I know what Jake did was harsh, but so far your mc seems to be a very level headed and contemplative character, so suddenly running upstairs to do something so stupid is unexpected, and a bit off. If you want to have this so sudden I think you should perhaps drop hints in previous chapters. Maybe mentioning the circle on her calander earlier, or other thoughts of death. People who plan their own suicide tend to talk and think about death a lot before they do.
Of course, it's a great development (well, not for her,) but unexpected none the less.
On to chapter seven.
Added Note: I think it is a wise choice to split chapter six into two parts - considering the nature of this one.
Hullo! The name's Lindsey. (; Let's start with the review, shall we?
This is a fragment. Try to stay away from those.
If you broke this down into two different sentences, it would sound so much better. It seems like a big run-on to me and doesn't read right.
Overall:
I loved the description and the story itself! You did a fantastic job when describing the cutting scene. I could feel her pain, yet feel her wanting it to hurt more. I, personally, have never wanted to cut myself, and, therefore, do not know what it's like. You did a good enough job to give me that knowledge. Not much that you need to correct. You only had a few grammatical errors here and there. But, I feel like I should give you some criticism to take back and think about. Her mom seems to be lacking description. You make a good point to tell us how she reacted to her daughter cutting herself, but I'd like to see more. Maybe the daughter can overhear her talking to one of her friends on the phone saying how worried she is and such? I don't know, it's just a thought. But I would like to see more dialogue within this chapter. I'm definitely interested in reading more! Especially since it's a romance novel. (: Please keep me updated!
-Lindsey
Overall. This was good and touching, I had once experienced the feeling of wanting to kill myself so I can relate to the MC, you did a great job of describing it. I hope you don't have these feelings, trust me it sucks. Any-who this was a good chapter and I liked it. PM me when chapter 7 is up
Jenn