Drip. Drip.
1/1
Picking up the small razorblade, Jane brought it closer to her face and examined it. Shrugging her shoulders, it looked perfectly fine to her. It would get the job done anyway, she thought. Slowly pressing the sharp metal into her thin wrist, she pressed down harder. Having done it so many times, Jane didn’t even wince when the pressure started to build and when the blood traveled down on the floor.
Drip.
Drip.
She didn’t even hear the door open up from behind her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Came an enraged voice. Before she knew what was happening, Jane felt a pair of strong hands pull away the razorblade and somebody push her up into a sitting position next to the bathtub.
“Sorry,” Jane feebly mumbled out. “It’s for the best Shane.”
“For the best!?” Shane, her boyfriend, bellowed out. “Who is it the best for? Huh Jane? You? Or are unborn child?” His eyes dangerously flashed and he balled his hands into tight fists.
Instantly wrapping her frail arms around her blooming stomach, Jane cried out. “You don’t know what it’s like Shane! I just want all of this to be over.”
“We already talked about this,” Shane said. He was trying to control his voice, but his anger kept getting the best of him. “We’re going to keep the baby and everything is going to be fine. We can still do that Jane, but you seem to not want it. We’re keeping this family together, dammit!” He slammed his fist hard into the bathroom floor tile. Tears began free falling from his cerulean orbs, but he didn’t care. He loved Jane and that baby more than anything in the world and he didn’t want to watch his world shatter right before his eyes. “Why are you doing this to me baby? Jane, why are you doing this to me and our baby?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t even fucking cut it!”
Wiping her tears away with her hands, Jane’s wrist pressed against her face and gave her an eerie look as if she was crying tears of blood on her left side. Before Shane could stop her, Jane gave him one last apologizing look and picked the razorblade back up.
“No Jane,” he said. Just as he stretched his hand out to grab away at the thin strip of metal, he was too late.
Jane slashed away at her throat and stomach with the razor. Tears began being mixed with blood and feeble cries. With one last direct hit to her stomach, Jane’s eyes dilated. She dropped to the cold floor.
She was dead.
Drip.
Drip.
She didn’t even hear the door open up from behind her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Came an enraged voice. Before she knew what was happening, Jane felt a pair of strong hands pull away the razorblade and somebody push her up into a sitting position next to the bathtub.
“Sorry,” Jane feebly mumbled out. “It’s for the best Shane.”
“For the best!?” Shane, her boyfriend, bellowed out. “Who is it the best for? Huh Jane? You? Or are unborn child?” His eyes dangerously flashed and he balled his hands into tight fists.
Instantly wrapping her frail arms around her blooming stomach, Jane cried out. “You don’t know what it’s like Shane! I just want all of this to be over.”
“We already talked about this,” Shane said. He was trying to control his voice, but his anger kept getting the best of him. “We’re going to keep the baby and everything is going to be fine. We can still do that Jane, but you seem to not want it. We’re keeping this family together, dammit!” He slammed his fist hard into the bathroom floor tile. Tears began free falling from his cerulean orbs, but he didn’t care. He loved Jane and that baby more than anything in the world and he didn’t want to watch his world shatter right before his eyes. “Why are you doing this to me baby? Jane, why are you doing this to me and our baby?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t even fucking cut it!”
Wiping her tears away with her hands, Jane’s wrist pressed against her face and gave her an eerie look as if she was crying tears of blood on her left side. Before Shane could stop her, Jane gave him one last apologizing look and picked the razorblade back up.
“No Jane,” he said. Just as he stretched his hand out to grab away at the thin strip of metal, he was too late.
Jane slashed away at her throat and stomach with the razor. Tears began being mixed with blood and feeble cries. With one last direct hit to her stomach, Jane’s eyes dilated. She dropped to the cold floor.
She was dead.