"I'm just going upstairs mom," she yelled, clasping the scissors against her chest, as she thumped her way upstairs, not waiting for a reply. She opened her room door, and putting the scissors down on the floor, went over to the radio. Switching it on, she turned back, and towards the discarded scissors, and picked them up. Walking slowly towards the tiny sink in her room, past her cupboard. She didn't notice at all her walk, as if she was in a trance, one step in front of the other, her hazel eyes unblinking as she reached the basin, slowly turning on the faucet, as the water gurgled past willing her, urging her on.
Michelle slid the scissors above her shoulder, feeling the cool metal as it enclosed her earlobe, the sharp flash of pain, as the blood came out, running down her hand, matching with the red of her top, feeling warm on her skin. Her eyes were open, staring like deep pools into the mirror, at her reflection opposite her. There was a click, as the scissors snapped back together, separating her ear lobe, leaving a free torrent of blood. She slowly put the scissors down on the shelf above her sink, slowly picking up a salt shaker. Sprinkling some onto her hand, she clasped her hand to her ear, feeling the sting, the sharp shock.
"Michelle!" she heard her mother call, some what distantly from downstairs. She jolted back to reality, and screaming, she ran downstairs, her footsteps barely audible, above the constant shrieking which was so high pitched, her mother didn't know if it would shatter the windows.
Five hours later they were still in the hospital, Michelle sitting on a hospital trolley Wearing the white gown (funny word for it, she thought, it being like a nightie), the strip lights above her like search lights, cutting into her, as the air dank with bleach and disinfectant, as she heard an old man wander past, muttering to himself about feeding the cat. She felt different now, almost as if the scissors incident had enhanced her, as if it felt better this way than it was before, as though, by separating her ear lobe, she had cut off the part of her that made her feel unhappy, or down. No, she thought to herself, that was ridiculous, it cant feel good, it couldn't, that would be too sick a thought to think about, the idea that she would be such a masochistic person made her feel sick. Michelle, she though, the Michelle who went queasy when Rob Hemdries got a nose bleed, you, she thought, who was queasy when she watched E.R. It just wasn't worth thinking about, although, the idea had come across her mind, perhaps for a second, but it was enough. She felt sick, and, grabbing a bedpan, was, and promptly lost her tea.
"Mom!" she called, her voice echoing down the hall, sounding out of place in this graveyard of a ward. She smiled, as her mother bustled her way down the ward, her hair standing upright.
"I promise dear, I've only been gone a minute, and when I left you were sleeping like a lamb, as quiet as a mouse, and I only went out to get a cup of tea".
"It's ok Mom", she said, "I just wanted to ask you when I could go home, I've just been sick."
"Oh poppet!" her mother exclaimed, making Michelle cringe, and go red with embarrassment. "You'll be bale to go soon, I promise, the doctors just have to talk to you, and then you're free to go, ok?"
Michelle finally got home at around 6, the house dark, as her father hadn't been home from work yet. She switched the lights on, and climbed up the stairs, towards her room. Flinging the door open, she walked into her room, the blue walls staring down at her. She had left her side-lamp on, she remembered, it casting a dingy light around the room.
She walked over to the basin, and knelt down in front of it. Reaching out, she touched the carpet, displaying a red flower of blood, already dark, and stained in, unforgettable, and un-erasable. Getting up, she reached out to switch off her radio, her hand halting a few centimetres from it. A large post-it was stuck to it, and scrawled in black Marker pen, were the words:
'What's done is Done, you can't reverse it, you are mine now, you shall be willing" she said them softly to herself, her lips barely moving, without her even noticing. "Weird" she said to herself, before crumpling the note up and throwing it in the bin. She collapsed onto her bed, suddenly exhausted, and slept.
A/N: I'm writing two chapters at once to advance it slightly, so just R&R and tell me what you think.