Categories > Original > Romance > Dancing with Death
I was back to hating Gerard again when I got home. He wouldn’t even answer me. And then, to make matters worse, when I checked my phone, I had a voicemail from everyone’s favorite Tina. She was totally ready to spread the news the second I asked him. I should have never accepted that bet.
“I’m such an idiot,” I moaned, dragging a hand through my hair.
I climbed out of the car and headed into the house. I collapsed on my bed and let my eyes slip closed.
I was in no way willing to go to the dance with Gerard. But now I couldn’t back out. Of course not. I’d gotten Tina too excited. Backing out now would result in unnecessary drama that I could definitely live without. Possibly a cat fight. I had known better than to get tangled up in schemes like this. Anything Tina has any part at all in screams of backstabbing high school girls.
I literally growled under my breath when my phone buzzed on my night stand. I rolled over and glared at the screen. Sarah texted me, wanting to know how detention went. I rolled my eyes at her teasing and threw the phone against the wall, causing it to shut off and remain silent. Then I curled up and fell asleep.
When I woke it was around midnight. Due to my going to bed early, I was completely well rested and, since I’d skipped dinner, hungry. I went downstairs and scavenged through the pantry till I found what I was looking for: cereal. I don’t know why. I just really wanted some cereal. After devouring some Count Chocula, I was up, carrying the bowl to the sink so I could wash it out. Without knowing it, I splashed some milk on the floor. This served as a problem because not ten seconds later, as I walked away from the sink, I nearly went tumbling, head-first, into the floor. But I caught myself with the help of a counter halfway down, pulling myself up to stare at the knife block in front of my face and catch my breath.
An odd, random, interesting thought occurred to me.
Though I’d used those very knives many times to chop up some vegetables, I’d never cut myself. I wondered how bad it’d hurt. I wondered how bad it would hurt…if I slashed one across my neck.
Is there pain in dying? Only one way to find out ,said a nasty voice in my head. I slowly pulled out a large, sharp knife, which gleamed in the light, as if smiling at me. I ran a hand along the blade, noting how the light moved and bounced in different ways. I was suddenly tempted to slit my wrists. Or neck. Or stab myself. Something. I suddenly wanted to die.
My senses rushed back to me all at once. I dropped the knife. It clattered on the ground, the sound snapping me back to reality. Where did that come from? I had never, ever even considered anything like suicide, or cutting. I still whined when I skinned my knee.
I had no idea why I’d just contemplated suicide. The idea made no sense. I was probably just suddenly and completely insane. I mean, even the most mentally unstable people have a reason to go around wishing death on themselves. Maybe they created it in their head, maybe not. But I’d never heard of anyone just seeing a knife and thinking Hey, wonder if it’d hurt to cut my freaking throat open.
I turned and ran upstairs. Back to the safety of my room. I sat on my bed, rocking back and forth, wondering what’d come over me. What was wrong.
I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until my mom was shaking me awake the next morning, yelling that I’d slept through the alarm clock going off.
“I’m such an idiot,” I moaned, dragging a hand through my hair.
I climbed out of the car and headed into the house. I collapsed on my bed and let my eyes slip closed.
I was in no way willing to go to the dance with Gerard. But now I couldn’t back out. Of course not. I’d gotten Tina too excited. Backing out now would result in unnecessary drama that I could definitely live without. Possibly a cat fight. I had known better than to get tangled up in schemes like this. Anything Tina has any part at all in screams of backstabbing high school girls.
I literally growled under my breath when my phone buzzed on my night stand. I rolled over and glared at the screen. Sarah texted me, wanting to know how detention went. I rolled my eyes at her teasing and threw the phone against the wall, causing it to shut off and remain silent. Then I curled up and fell asleep.
When I woke it was around midnight. Due to my going to bed early, I was completely well rested and, since I’d skipped dinner, hungry. I went downstairs and scavenged through the pantry till I found what I was looking for: cereal. I don’t know why. I just really wanted some cereal. After devouring some Count Chocula, I was up, carrying the bowl to the sink so I could wash it out. Without knowing it, I splashed some milk on the floor. This served as a problem because not ten seconds later, as I walked away from the sink, I nearly went tumbling, head-first, into the floor. But I caught myself with the help of a counter halfway down, pulling myself up to stare at the knife block in front of my face and catch my breath.
An odd, random, interesting thought occurred to me.
Though I’d used those very knives many times to chop up some vegetables, I’d never cut myself. I wondered how bad it’d hurt. I wondered how bad it would hurt…if I slashed one across my neck.
Is there pain in dying? Only one way to find out ,said a nasty voice in my head. I slowly pulled out a large, sharp knife, which gleamed in the light, as if smiling at me. I ran a hand along the blade, noting how the light moved and bounced in different ways. I was suddenly tempted to slit my wrists. Or neck. Or stab myself. Something. I suddenly wanted to die.
My senses rushed back to me all at once. I dropped the knife. It clattered on the ground, the sound snapping me back to reality. Where did that come from? I had never, ever even considered anything like suicide, or cutting. I still whined when I skinned my knee.
I had no idea why I’d just contemplated suicide. The idea made no sense. I was probably just suddenly and completely insane. I mean, even the most mentally unstable people have a reason to go around wishing death on themselves. Maybe they created it in their head, maybe not. But I’d never heard of anyone just seeing a knife and thinking Hey, wonder if it’d hurt to cut my freaking throat open.
I turned and ran upstairs. Back to the safety of my room. I sat on my bed, rocking back and forth, wondering what’d come over me. What was wrong.
I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until my mom was shaking me awake the next morning, yelling that I’d slept through the alarm clock going off.
Sign up to rate and review this story