FicWad

Patrick snatched up the largest and sharpest knife he could see. Tears still pouring from his eyes, he held the knife to his forearm.
One slash...two slashes he cries in agony, yet it this felt so right...three slashes now four, he must have made at least thirteen cuts by now. His forearm gushed blood which dripped all over everthing. Patrick didn't bother to wipe any off of his arm.
The finished product was so satisfying, for the slashes spelled out something, and only he would know what. He dropped the knife which clattered to the linoleum with a clatter. Blood spatteered everywhere, leaving tiny droplets across the floor. Patrick headed back up the stairs then, barely able to walk. The sleeping pills were taking effect now. He just made it through his bedroom doorway before heavily falling to the floor, hitting his head, and passing out.
"I really do love you....Pete...." Patrick thought to himself before blacking out completely.

There Patrick layed, a pool of blood soaking into the plush rug underneath his left arm.