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He's releasing me, and I don't want him to. I'm crying. He's looking at me strangely, as if he thinks that I'm nothing but a wimp, but I know I'm much more. Just not what most people find desirable. I'm letting go now, but very reluctantly, and he can tell. He's raising his eyebrow. 'I'm sorry.' I'm whispering, and breaking into further tears, running into the bathroom. I feel sorry for him, but I can't help it. I'm leaving the latch undone.
I'm opening the medicine cabinet now, reaching in behind the bottles of aspirin and such. It's still there. He hasn't discovered it. Fear is seeping through me, yet so is relief. I'm torn between the two feelings.
I'm taking it by it's handle, stroking the sharp blade of the dagger with my hand. I'm crying. I'm unsure of whether or not this is the right thing to do, but I'm determined. He's screaming my name, kicking at the door. I don't think he's realized it's unlocked yet. I'm pulling the dagger into the air above me, taking a deep breath. I'm bringing it down, into the soft flesh of my chest, again, again, again.
My usual pale skin is lined with red. Blood's pouring out of my chest. My face is twisted, and I'm unconsciously screaming out in pain, before falling onto the cold floor tiles. Red is seeping over them slowly, and my screaming has stopped. I'm trying to see, but my vision is so blurred. I'm seeing the door burst open, seeing him burst in, hearing him scream, but it's all in a fuzz. I'm feeling myself lifted up onto his knee, hearing his screams for help, feeling his tears hit my body, but it seems miles away. I'm trying to say something, but I can't. The pain is horrific, and my vision has gone to nothing but blackness and the pain, the feelings, everything is fading away. and then everything's gone.