crash&burn.

The bathtub is full of blood. So dark I can’t even see my limbs at the bottom. Bleeding heavily, arm spurting. But I can’t bring myself to care. Not even a little. I realize it is dangerous. I realize I could bleed enough to end the game. But it doesn’t matter at all. Not even a little.
I hold my arm under the hot water. It speeds the bleeding, coming faster. Racing. What will it win?
I watch the water change colours. The window is open and it is cold. That is the final factor in deciding that I don’t care about keeping myself above the surface. This world is too cold anyways. Underneath, it’s warm and metallic. I go under and I can taste iron in my mouth. itdoesn’tmatteritdoesn’tmatteritdoesn’tmatter, I chant in my head when I find myself clawing at the sides of the tub. itdoesn’tmatter, I let my arms drop underneath too. Eyes open, everything tinted red. Mouth open, filled past my teeth. I don’t move. I think I can breathe the water/blood but it makes me choke. I still don’t surface. I wait.
Something itches at the back of my head. getupgetup. somethinguptherematters. someoneuptherematters. can’tgiveupyet. I come back up sputtering and spitting red.
I wake up. I stare down at my arm. My stomach clenches, turning with nausea. The thing I’m looking at doesn’t look like an arm. it looks like a piece of dead flesh. Like the packaged, bloody meats in supermarkets. I stand up and hurry to blot at it [uselessly] with tissues. I drain the bloodbath and wrap myself in an olive green towel. Get out. Breathe. Bandage arm, put on a shitton of bracelets to cover the bandage that’s already being soaked through. Get ready to open the door, you have to go out there and smile.
I should be scared. But I’m not.

[and that scares me more than anything else.]