There's No More Space

There's No More Space

A Story by Bexfinch

I'm having such morbid thoughts these days

The blade rested against his skin. The silver shined in the moons half-closed eye. My reflection taunted me. The dark bruise above my eye whistled back at me. I let out another choked sob. The floor boards felt cold underneath my feet.The silver was so pretty against his skin. So nice, so beautiful. It complimented the creamy paper white of it, indenting pale little pink lines.

 If I pressed a bit harder blood would bloom like pretty little flowers. His eyes were steel, a wet angry steel. Cold and unloving. As they always were. His Adams apple bobbed. His lips moved, body stiffened. I danced the instrument over his arm tearing the thin epidermis. I tasted the iron in my mouth. My own blood; perhaps he would like to taste his own. 

It has happened. The madness has taken over finally devouring my mind, like a trembling child I succumb to my inner demon. I was poisoned by HIM. The only way I can be pure again is by purging myself of him. The lifeline. The thin trail of heroin, turning my blood black. My arm aches, broken at my side. My lungs feel as if they have been filled with sand and my throat coated with mud. I'm sure he is the answer to my pain. 

His mouth moves again but I can hear him. I clamp a finger over his mouth. Watching his eyes grow wild like an animals. He is an animal I tell myself. For what he did to me. A child sleeps in this house. Breathing, even, full, lovely breaths. Cooing in her sleep. Expecting that when she wakes up . She will find me. In the kitchen. Cooking her breakfast. Turning pancakes bolder brown with maple syrup. She needs me to caress her head and tell her everything is alright. That when she comes home I'll be here to love her, listen to her, help her.  That when it's night again tomorrow i'll be here to press my lips to her forehead once more. 

The knife is at his throat. 

I'm not so sure I'll be able to say that now. 
" Your supposed to be...,"
I chuckle pressing a finger to his lips once more. " Darling don't say dead Heavens too full and hell has just one more spaces,"
I give him one last look. " For you," His eyes become wide. "Darling,"  I finish sliding the knife easily through his neck feeling tendons snapping and muscles destroyed. 

I turn away from the scene hanging my head. 
Cursed my my anger, I am stuck in a limbo; between life and death. 

© 2013 Bexfinch

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The first sentence was all I needed to know that this was going to be a great read.

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Vivid and though-provoking. I am fascinated by your descriptions.

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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2 Reviews
Added on March 22, 2013
Last Updated on March 22, 2013
Tags: short, story, death, wife, moom, child, girl, love, anger, blood, kill, crazy, zombie



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