Deeper Than Blades

Drip. Drip. I looked down at the blood splattered across the ground.
Drip. Drip. I watched it run.
Drip. Drip. Drip. I watched it fall.
The wind blew, and I howled. The cool air whipped around me and I cried out. The pain grew stronger. It was agony. But I just sat there, watching the deep, red liquid seep through the rips in my black shirt. I watched it run down my arm, and fall to the floor. Drip. It hit the floor with a splash.
“Mental” the words echoed through my mind.
“Freak!” I couldn’t stop the screaming in my head.
“You’re hurting her!” I just couldn’t stop it.
“It’s you!” The words were spat.
“You’re the reason this is happening!” They were desperate.
“It’s you!” They tore through me.
“You’re killing her!” The words ripped through my heart. Again, I cried out in agony. I reached to the floor, and picked up the shiny metallic object just lying, crimson red on the ground.
“Do it!” The tears stained my face, and I clenched my fist. Warm liquid soaked my hand. Drip. The sound started again. I opened my hand and let the blood fall. I removed the blade. I held it. I held it to my arm but I hesitated. For a split second, I hesitated.
“Do it for her!” That second was over, and I dragged the blade across my skin. I cried out as the blood ran. I raised the blade to my arm again.
“Cry!” The words echoed.
“You’ll cry!” And the tears ran.
“You’ll cry for her!” there was no hesitation as I dragged the blade again, ripping through my shirt, through my skin. Yet I didn’t cry out. No sound could escape my throat. I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. I kept the blade moving. I wouldn’t let it stop. And the blood kept running, kept pouring, soaking thorough my shirt. And my voice let go. I screamed. I cried. I howled. I grabbed my sleeves, and clawed at them. I ripped the shirt at the seams, and pulled the sleeves away. The sight before me just added to my anger. The word “cry” screamed at me from my arms. Each one carefully carved deep into my flesh, blood running.
“No” I whispered “No, no, no, no, no” I kept repeating over and over. I gripped the blade. I held it tight in my hand, slicing through my skin.