Darkness Follows

• Paige Klingner, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2018

My fingers clawed at my skin as I took in my appearance. My lip quivered as I ran my tongue over the slightly pink skin. A salty sensation reached my taste buds and slowly I raised my hand to my face feeling the rivers run from my eyes. My cold reflection stared back at me as I looked out of the blurry windscreen that was my eyes. The thoughts swarming my brain were as complex and scattered as the millions of people running about their day in the city outside. Each having their own unique path and their own story to tell. I latched onto one, only to find the screaming voice of my sister, “how could you, I hate you.” Tears stained my cheeks like the blood on a road after an accident.
My eyes travelled to the sink. The small metal object caught the light as I stretched my arm towards it. My eyes glazed over. Memories I had blocked out for so long came rushing to the surface. My chest erupted in pain as I squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to stop the images from flooding my consciousness. My feet turned to cement as my heart began to slam against my rib cage, seeming to break each bone with every thump. My breath became ragged like the small whisper of the wind as it reached the beach. Images flashed before my eyes. The water washing into the fragments of colour around me. It became a blur, like a rainbow, appearing beautiful to the eye but if only outsiders could see how it was really made.
I gripped my small frame in an attempt to hold myself together. The pain running through my veins was indescribable. I heard a clink as the metal bounced from my hand to the floor. The stillness of the air surrounding me was like the harsh grasp of a hand around my throat. My eyes drifted towards the now frozen metal, its surface as cold and dark as death itself. My body began to shake with both fear and anticipation as I ran my fingers over the sharp edge. I sucked in a breath, the air hitching in the back of my throat.
The blade hovered above my already marked skin. A threat. Nazis waiting in the darkened alleys of Berlin. Slowly, as if on command, the blade sliced across my wrist. The motion well practiced and perfected. Warm liquid ran down my fingers like silent fog rolling down a hillside. A peaceful smile brushed my face as the metal once again scarred my skin. Ragged breaths escaped my slightly parted lips like the quiet whispers of echoes down an empty corridor. The soft waves of my hair fell across my eyes allowing me to escape from the screaming world. I sighed. The pulsing liquid running through my veins, fleeing my body for the floor below. There was no going back. I had made my decision.