Categories > Original > Horror > Ruby
The blade gleamed in the night. It shone with an unearthly glow that could only mean one thing. Danger. I put it close to my skin, revelling in the coldness of it. As I placed it gently on my wrist I realised that this was my last night alive. Should I write a note, explaining why? I decided not to, because it'd make them feel worse.
I suppose I should tell you a bit about myself. My name is Ruby. Ironic, really, that I’m named after the colour of my blood. I used to be sweet and innocent. Not any more, not after I saw the world for what it really is. Its full of hate and ignorance. I tried to talk to my so-called friends about how I felt, but they turned their backs on me. Abandoned me, left me to the darkness that was threatening to consume me. And you know what I did? I let it. I let it take me, I let it erase my hope, my will to live. That was a year ago. I’m stood here now, after fighting depression for months on end, and I have finally given up.
That first cut was like heaven. Deeper than I’ve ever cut before, the red liquid seeped out of the cut. I made another one, right across the veins on my wrist. And again, on my other arm. I moved the knife to my neck, knowing about the vein that ran through it. I sliced my skin open, not caring that my hands were slick with my blood. My vision started to fade slightly, so I grabbed my phone and dialled my best friend's number before it was too late to say anything. He picked up.
“I'm sorry” I whispered, and hung up.
My sight went, but my hearing remained. The clock's ticking seemed abnormally loud. Rushed footsteps on the stairs. Sobbing. My mouth curved up slightly, in my trademark crooked smile. I felt hands on my face, but I knew it was too late to save me now.
“I'm sorry” I said again.
And then there was nothing.
A/N:
Please can you review it if you read it? It's the first time I've written something like this so I wanna know what you guys think.
Thanks - Sarah
I suppose I should tell you a bit about myself. My name is Ruby. Ironic, really, that I’m named after the colour of my blood. I used to be sweet and innocent. Not any more, not after I saw the world for what it really is. Its full of hate and ignorance. I tried to talk to my so-called friends about how I felt, but they turned their backs on me. Abandoned me, left me to the darkness that was threatening to consume me. And you know what I did? I let it. I let it take me, I let it erase my hope, my will to live. That was a year ago. I’m stood here now, after fighting depression for months on end, and I have finally given up.
That first cut was like heaven. Deeper than I’ve ever cut before, the red liquid seeped out of the cut. I made another one, right across the veins on my wrist. And again, on my other arm. I moved the knife to my neck, knowing about the vein that ran through it. I sliced my skin open, not caring that my hands were slick with my blood. My vision started to fade slightly, so I grabbed my phone and dialled my best friend's number before it was too late to say anything. He picked up.
“I'm sorry” I whispered, and hung up.
My sight went, but my hearing remained. The clock's ticking seemed abnormally loud. Rushed footsteps on the stairs. Sobbing. My mouth curved up slightly, in my trademark crooked smile. I felt hands on my face, but I knew it was too late to save me now.
“I'm sorry” I said again.
And then there was nothing.
A/N:
Please can you review it if you read it? It's the first time I've written something like this so I wanna know what you guys think.
Thanks - Sarah
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