Beneath The Moon

I swear I heard my heart beat ten times faster, pounding in my chest and threatening to pop out at any second. What was he going to do? Threaten me? Kill me? And then, as if reading my mind, he answered my question. Cutting my shirt as well, he sliced through the skin on my back. The effect was instantaneous; pain seared through my body in a matter of seconds. I had cut before, but slicing my wrists was nothing compared to this. He was using a duller knife than I had used, and therefore had to press harder and use more force to slice the skin.

I bit my tongue, trying not to yell out. I didn’t want to give him the pleasure of that. But he wasn’t going to stop at one cut. He made a second rip in my shirt, a second rip in my skin. This time I couldn’t hold it in; I cried out in pain, making up for the first and second cut he had made. I bit my tongue again; I could have sworn I was going to bite the tip of it off. He made a third cut, just below the first and second, and I yelled out again in an agonizing pain. I could feel blood trickling down my back and gathering on my pants and ripped shirt. Franklin let go of the pressure points harshly, and stepped away. Get out of here, now, I thought. I started running up the stairs, until half way up, when Franklin called me. He held up the bloody kitchen knife and pointed it at me with a cold stare.

“Maybe next time, you won’t skip school,” he said, as if he was warning me. Shit. I ran the rest of the way up the stairs, into my room, and slammed the door. I didn’t even bother to change out of my bloody clothes. I found my bag that I had brought here in the first place, and shoved everything into it lightning-speed. I could still feel my back bleeding. I finally climbed up and reached into the lamp shade, grabbing my cigarettes and shoving them in my pocket. I got down and stepped over to my window, opening it. I forced my bag through the window and watched it fall to the ground. Good thing I didn’t really own anything breakable or valuable. I clambered out of my window and slowly climbed my way down the tree. I grabbed my bag, and the only thing else I did before leaving was throw a rock at the window, breaking it, and watch Franklin’s steamed look as I ran away.