Trapped

She ran her fingers over the glistening ridges on her forearms, feeling them bump under her fingertips. Scars- lots of them, silver-white in the cold light of the bathroom. A testiment, she thought, to her life so far. A tear trickled down her cheek. Fell, shining onto the glittering metal in her hand. The sharp edge whispered to her, promising freedom, release. Escape. She'd tried, she knew she'd tried. But she just couldn't, couldn't fight it- them, anymore. Another tear fell, and another and another, until the small dome slipped off the shining silver surface with a soundless splash onto the dull, blue-grey tiles below. It wouldn't make any difference, being a disgrace to the family anyway she knew they would all be secretly relieved to be rid of her. The bathroom around her blurred as more tears filled her eyes, the only thing staying sharply focused in her vision was the kitchen knife clutched tightly in her trembling fingers. Adrenalin flooded her veins, her body's mechanism for fight or flight, Well, she had given up fighting.
The blade rose, fell, rose, fell. Till it slipped from her nerveless fingers with a clatter to the floor. Flowing down her arm, a crimson stream, drip, drip, dripping on the floor. The tiles turned to blood- but no pain, yet. Sliding down the wall she saw her reflection opposite in the full length mirror...

Thud-thud...Thud-thud.

She willed her heart to stop, to give up like she had. But her senses still strived to take in every detail, her body fighting, fightng for her. Her face with pale, drawn skin, dark cresents under the eyes from too many sleepless nights. The bitter-sweet taste coating her tongue, clogging her throat. The metallic smell in her nose, bitter and sharp. The deep, relentless ache growing in her left arm, clawing up her elbow, her shoulder. Tears mingled with blood on the cold, uncaring tiles...

Thud-thud...Thud-thud.

The pulsing rhythm of her heart beat loud in the utter silence. Striving to keep her alive, as if she was worth it. The echo of her father's bitter words, her mother's worse silence reverberating in her ears. But it was her heart that had gotten her into trouble in the first place she knew. Because loving someone was a crime now, apparantly. The room around her seemed to blur, shapes were bleached of colour and texture, seeming more a dreamlike haze than reality. She knew she didn't have long left, but strangely she felt no fear, and there was no pain, now. Just a calm acceptance that it was finally going to be all over. With the slow, heavy fingers of her good right hand she pulled a picture from her pocket and cradled it gently to her chest...

Thud-thud...

            thud...

The picture of the girl she loved.