Chapter One: Blood & Pearls

A Chapter by Zachary_James

Blood & Pearls

Chapter 1:

One question.

Would you fall for the ermine, that destroyed you?

I’ve been staring at the bloodstained floor, wondering how the white tile intertwines with the crimson blood, streaming like a river from my wrists. Feeling the blood, as it trickles down that’s when I get my excitement. I glance down, as if I see a ghost haunting me, wearing my old ratty nightgown, I’ve had for decades, but never wore. My body grows tense, I scream when my blood shimmers with pearls. Composing myself, I take a few steps counting every step I consume, before reaching my stone glass window. Overlooking my every move.

I hate the way I look, I silently stand there critiquing my appearance, Taking a knife, writing a suicide note, giving myself a solid goodbye. I decide to take my own life. NO ONE CAN SAVE ME NOW. The knife breaks the glass like butter, suddenly I hear my sister too young to see this trotting upstairs.

Her footsteps quieted, as if she was coming to the bloodstained bathroom.

“ Gabe, mom said for me to retrieve you for supper, dad is not here yet but will be soon. “ She murmured through the small crack. My sister has never seen me, cut. It’s been a hidden obsession of mine for as long as I can remember, I wasn’t going to come clean now, and I won’t tell my family about the blood and pearls. Not just yet.

This so called obsession of mine, started when I was eight years old and continuing into my current age. Cutting myself is just something I am used to:

The front door slammed, signaling that my drunken overworked father is home, “Gabe” Dads voice shattered the silence, “Come on down and eat your mother’s cooking. He muttered, words slurred. “Okay I heard you, you don’t have repeat yourself!” My feet hit the floor with a bang, my eyes sting from the knife’s sharp edge, hitting my very tan but soft skin exposing veins and big amounts of skin shedding like a snake’s skin. I am now running, blood spattering with every demanding step I take, my head turning ‘round and ‘round looking at the blood tracks, I am weak, I have no blood left. My name is Gabe Trent, this is my story.