On the Razor\'s Edge
On the Razor's Edge
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Warning: This IS a disturbing and sickening story!
all your wonderful reviews and encouragement.
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On the Razor’s Edge
By: Zorra
Copyright 2001-2002
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Ryo placed his handful of personal treasures into a small red box with a silver
lid. A dragon was elegantly carver into
the top of it with two red stones for eyes.
Ryo reach over to pick up his journal, the last thing to be packed- from
the neatly made bed. With a sigh he
stole a glance out the window at the fierce winter storm hollowing about in
rage. His eyes returned to the journal
in his hands as he flipped to the last entry, one he’d done earlier that day.
time to be sure it sounded right.
-~-~-~-
Let me take you back a few years.
Back to a time when I was alone, a time when all of my focus was on
myself and what I could get out of simple acts.yes\"> The acts that shape our future and make us who we are today, and
what we will be tomorrow…
The knife glistened in the moonlight, playing over the slick blade held delicately
in my hand. It was a treasure that I had secretly held onto.
itself. I had slashed my wrist, cutting
deeply into the vein. As I did so, I was aware of a sharp pain, as I held
my hand up for inspection.Looking at
the blood, running in waves from within me, I was awed. The crimson drops
flowed down my arm, dripping from my elbow to form a dark pool at my
feet. As the pool grew I inhaled deeply.
The smell of blood was intoxicating, so fresh and inviting, never before
touched. I was enchanted and repulsed
by it.
I looked down into the pool at my feet. yes\"> Its glassy surface was broken only by the small droplets that
drizzled down into it from my arm every few seconds. yes\"> Gazing into the seemingly endless depths, I felt as though there
was something hiding within. A secret-
or upon closer inspection, a memory that was just out of reach.
waiting for something to surface, lost within my own thoughts.
see past the reflection of the snow falling around me. The mirror would
keep its secrets and I’d be left to wonder about them till the end of my days.
The wind tugged at my hat, loosening my hair so that now, sweat-socked
strands clung to my pail face as I climbed back to my feet. I hadn’t
realized until then, that I’d sunk down, bringing my face almost to touch the
crimson liquid. I turned my attention
back to the blade. Taking the knife in
my blood covered hand- I pressed it against my left arm. I cut slowly;
noting the way the flesh split evenly, bright red spiting out to run down
my arm where it joined the puddle on the white snow.
No longer could I stifle a cry, for the pain was
overwhelming! Dizziness and exhaustion took holrcinrcing me to my knees, the
blood covered blade sliding easily from my soiled hands. Knowing I’d die
if my blood continued to drain from my body, I contemplated stopping it.
stop. Sitting down, I didn’t feel so
weak or dizzy. My mind cleared a little and I basked in the feeling.
It’s a feeling that is hard to describe.
My veins tightened in my arms- but not painfully, and you can feel the
liquid rush from them, grazing the skin softly with every heartbeat.
of. The blood isn’t just the rush of my
life drifting away. It is the rush of sorrow
and pain that dwells deep within my soul.
Pain that is eating me alive and changing me- begging for an outlet, a release.
only blood can bring.
They say it’s a disease to want to hurt yourself, to cut.
the tender veins. My purpose ght ght was
to slice my wrists without expecting much in return.yes\"> I only ask for a chance to indulge in the sensation of it all,
not to kill myself. What good would it
do me to be released from my inner turmoil only to be plunged back into it in
the end? yes\"> That would make me no different then the people that try to drown
their problems in boo’s.
I picked up the blade once more deciding I wanted more, for I’d never
experience this again. If I were to
savor the moment, it would have to be now.
I shakily drew the blade across my arm, crisscrossing the cuts.
mused as the blood flow grew faster. Adrenalin rushed threw my system,
giving me a temporary high. Moments
later, breathing became harder and my heart raced.yes\"> This is what I wanted, pain and excitement.
By cutting my wrists, I could receive a feeling unlike any other. A
deep pain that could mask my present hurt, the emotional pain that I’d carried
with me for most of my life and would always continue to do so.
As horrified, as any onlookers would be at seeing the spreading pool before
me, I could only smile. It all seemed
so surreal, like a dream. I could do
anything I wanted. I felt safe, wrapped
comfortably in the arms of night. The
sight of my life force abandoning my body in such a rush was comforting. For
once, I felt safe and at peace. If only
I could abandon myself so easily.
Curiosity got the better of me, surly there was nothing wrong with trying it?
good look at myself. Glazed eyes stared
back, seeing all and nothing while a cruel smile graced my bluing lips.
knew what I was doing, I found myself licking it clean. Yuck!
mouth but sweet as honey on my lips. Reflexively,
I gagged, before I dipped the blade back into the pool only to clean it once
more with my tongue. This action gave
me a sense of balance, of being, of power.
I was real.
With a sudden flash of realization
that faded as quickly as it had come, my mind cried out: ‘What was I doing?’
I no longer wanted this. Dropping the knife into the pool, I shoved my
wrists together, using the bottom of my thick sweater for a bandage. I
hadn’t realized just how fast my blood would drain or how long it’d been
flowing unchecked. I figured I’d have enough time to stop it when I was
ready. There was always time in the
movies. I was terrified. No one was around to hear my anguished
cries. No help. That was my own fault, going to an abandoned part
of town in the middle of the night. “Please God?” I called to the
heavens.
Surprisingly, a voice called down to me. My first
thought was an angel calling me home. I
looked up wiping my tear-streaked eyes with my sleeve to discover it was no
angel but a policewoman. A patrol car had pulled over on the bridge above
to fix a flat tire. God had answered my prayer; this was my miracle, as
small as it may be. I wasn’t going to
die after all!
Watching the spinning lights of the car made me dizzy and I swooned. I
felt the cold snow press against my cheek; unaware that I had fallen, my mind
began to drift. The lady cop kneeled beside me lifting me up to lean
against her and wrapping a warm blanket around my shivering frame. Thedden war warmth made me realize how cold I truly was and I sank deeper into
it.
She took my wrists in her hands and pressed a cloth over them placing her fingers
against the upper veins to slow the bleeding. I could hear her talking to
me, but couldn’t understand the words. The lull of sleep was too powerful
and it was a struggle to keep my eyes opened.
When her partner joined us I tried to sit up but my body was to
weak. I made a defeated cry in the back of my throat. Gentle arms
ordered me to relax and a wave of shame washed over me as he carefully whipped
the blood from my face. Distant sirens
rang through the still air. I stared blankly at the sky. I was just
a shell now. My soul was trapped in a numb unfeelingseeiseeing
body. Once again the sorrow and pain where caged, never to get the
better of me again.
I woke to find myself in the hospital. Both my wrists
were bandaged and an IV was hooked to my right arm. Because I had no
family, it was arranged for me to stay at a children’s home once I was better.
I attended therapy for the remainder of the winter. The therapists were
afraid I’d do this again because it was ‘my way of dealing with rejection’
according to them. If only they knew.
I’d tell them if I thought they’d understand.yes\"> But only individuals who’ve expncednced similar things would understand
so I remained quite.
Eventually I ran away, tired of everyone always inquiring about my
wrists and the motive for the act I’d so boldly entreated on. Tired of
the accusing stares and hushed whispers behind my back.
self-pity. I felt no need to die, had no reason to. I just wanted
to feel and to satisfy a deep curiosity. I’ll never regret cutting my
wrists, but never again will I do such a thing to myself.
Until next time…
-~-~-~-
Ryo’s eyes lingering on the “Until next time”, for a moment he considered crossing
it out but reframed from doing so with a shake of his head.
box along with his armor orb and closed the lid.yes\">
“Ryo, hurry up or we’ll be late!” Rowen’s voice drifted up the stairs.
“Coming!” Ryo called back, glancing out the window at the storm again.
nightstand next to the bed where his friends were sure to see it.
closing the door behind him.
He knew he’d not return this night…