A Final Choice

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Short story about a girl making the most important decision of her life. Inspired by a poem one of my classmates wrote.

Submitted: April 09, 2012

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Submitted: April 09, 2012

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Drip, drip, drip

Casey was sick of that leaky faucet, her stupid rundown house, her crappy life. Why was it worth living if you were abused, emotionally and physically, at school and at home, every day of your miserable existence? Why were the bruises, the broken ribs, the pounds of concealer worth fighting for? Why were the names, the bullies, and the emotional terrorism worth suffering through?

Drip, drip, drip

She stared at the razor blade. Was death really what she wanted? If she made this choice there would be no going back, no changing her mind at the last minute. She sighed, It couldn’t be worse than this, she thought. Her bath was ready and she slowly climbed into it, her broken ribs protesting, her purple body not wanting to move. She had knocked over her glass of water at dinner last night. It was one of the few times she actually got a meal at home, and she had to be stupid and let her hands shake while she was passing her father his plate.

Drip, drip, drip

She had paid for it dearly, but that was the last time she would allow herself to be broken by the man that gave her life, the last time she would let anyone hurt her.

Drip, drip, drip

She was finally sitting in the bath; she held the razor blade to her wrist.

Drip, drip, drip

She drug it across, cutting deep, hissing at the fleeting pain.

Drip, drip, drip

She moved on to her other wrist, doing the same thing. Cutting deep and letting the blood flow.

Drip, drip, drip

She lay back in the tub, one hand in the water, slowly turning it red, the other hanging off the edge of the tub. She was making a mess, but she really didn’t care.

Drip, drip, drip

She was tired, so tired, and she felt her eyes close.

Drip, drip, drip

The last thing she remembered was that a new sound had joined that stupid leaky faucet.

Drip, drop, drip, drop

A while later, the door to the bathroom opened, and a scruffy looking man walked in. He took one look at the bathtub, the horrible mess, and walked out. The words “stupid lazy bitch” echoed from down the hall, but there was no one to hear them.

Drip, drip, drip…


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