Artemis's POV

I remember staring at my wrist.

To slice or not to slice?

I remember wondering why I'd come back to this deadly addiction when I fell.

It was like I'd been knocked over by a wave of anger and...pain.

I don't exactly remember sticking the razor that deep into my wrist. All I remember is bloody red visions of rotten plums and wilted lollipops.

I remember seeing his face as I felt my life slowing ebbing away into a arterial flow of pain... and a sense of success.

That bitch Death had to take after years of trying...I had to go...right?

I felt my waist length Navy Blue hair soak through with crimson splashes of my memories.

I knew the white rug was turning into a red land of my mapped out veins of existence.

I couldn't help but laugh and laugh...and laugh.

The darkness was taking me...caressing my like a long lost lover I'd abandoned long ago.

Poetry is beautiful when you are trying to sew it into a silken blanket.

Meant to wrap around your soul to warm you to the dead bone.

This razor has become the bane of my existance.

Dihmituree's POV

I don't know exactly what made me pay attention to her.

Maybe it was the porcelain skin.

Or the imperfect scars that covered her arms like a pattern of a spiderweb.

She was a black widow...drained of her own venom.

I never really could remember her name.

Then I heard it, "Artemis".

It sounded like something so foreign.

Yet like a luscious wine that was tastefully sloshing down my throat.

Her ruby red lips wanted me to touch the scars.

Just to see how deadly her venom really was.

I remember the mischievous look she shot me.

She'd caught me staring at her web-filled arms.

She gave me that same look and put a single skeletal finger to her lips.

Mimicking a "Shhhh" with her lips.

Her eyes were violet and seemed to have been to hell and back.

She'd shaken hands with the devil.

And had come back victorious.

I remember following her home.

And seeing her bless herself with a single...


Web string of her venomous ways...