The Red

Blood ran freely down her fingertips, staining them red and dripping onto the wooden floorboards with a sound like a tap dripping.

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

Amy whimpered, moving to cover her face with her hands before realising that they were bloody, oh so bloody

(You're a sick sick girly, Amy, just accept it.)

and she needed to stick them under a hot tap as soon as she possibly could. Amy could feel the madness inside her, welling up as she gazed at the corpse on the ground, the body of her own father, eyes wide and tongue lolling from the hideous gaping mouth. She stepped away, tears forming and spilling down her cheeks, mouth opening to scream, but she froze. She couldn't do this, she couldn't

(Yes you can, dear, just accept it.)

keep going on this way. Ever since her family had moved to this little town in the middle of nowhere, she had felt this deep dark anger in the pit of her stomach, this rage that – once unleashed – might destroy everything she had worked so hard to build. Her grades, her friends, her boyfriend and family…

"Why did this have to happen to me?" she whispered, voice hoarse and cracked. The tears had dried now, leaving red marks running down her cheeks, her eyes feeling like a desert wind had blown them open. The anger was coiled in her stomach now like a snake, content on having been fed and now sunbathing on the warm rocks of her innards. It's almost comforting, she mused, eyes slipping shut and knees sinking to the floor.

Then she opened her eyes and the body was still there.

Amy shrieked, jolted from her reverie, and bolted from the room like a startled gazelle. She sprinted down the hallway to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. A voice whispered in the back of her mind – her mother's – telling her not to do that or the frame would crack. Amy giggled shrilly, letting the bathroom counter take her weight. The feeling bubbled up again, tickling at her until she let it go, hysterical laughter filling the bathroom. She laughed until her sides hurt, choking, heaving sobs wracking her thin frame. Still gasping for air, Amy turned and faced the mirror, wanting to get the red

(Amy, Amy, Amy, it's still blood no matter what you call it.)

off of her hands as soon as possible, and briefly wondering if it stained like food colouring did, before choking back another fit of laughter at that thought. She glanced up at the mirror, sighing at what she saw.

Her mousy hair was coming loose from its tie, stray frizzy bits and pieces sticking up all over the place. A thin sheen of blood covered her freckles and nose, dripping down from a cut on her forehead. She winced, raising a hand to dig out the piece of glass that had become lodged there after her father had hit her over the head with his beer bottle in an attempt at self-defence. Moving quickly, she stripped out of her red-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower, running the water until it was steaming.

Amy scrubbed at her skin until all of it was red, the stain spreading and spreading under her wash cloth with the determination of a raging bull. No part of her was spared the treatment of harsh soap and rough fabric, and she attacked her body with a vile ferocity that made her feel nauseous. The world span around her as she concentrated, seeing suddenly insignificant and pale by comparison. The same rage that had overpowered her, using her body to kill her father, was now washing away the evidence with a meticulous and violent hand. She could feel herself falling, falling deeper into that black pit, vision clouding and limbs becoming weak, yet moving of their own volition. If she just let herself go, just let herself sink into that feeling, never to resurface as Amy Lewis again-

"No!" she screamed, wrenching her hand away from the black tendrils that had curled around it. She flailed wildly, trying to regain control of her limbs, smashing her arm into her mouth with bloodying force. She could feel the liquid on her lips as she turned to face the mirror, taking an unsteady step out of the shower before her knees buckled, and she fell into the curtain, dragging it with her to form a tangled heap on the tiles. Amy gasped, chest heaving as she struggled to draw air into her weak and tired lungs. "I won't… let you…," she whispered, hand falling limply at her side.

From the corner of her vision the mirror shone with a bloody light, and her reflection grinned at her, painted a raw and glistening red, dark liquid spilling from her lips and down her neck, dripping onto the floor with that sickening noise again.

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

Underneath Amy a red pool began to form as if a pipe had burst, leaking from the cracks between the white tiles, soiling them, staining them with the colour of life. Next to her hand lay her father's razor, glinting cruelly in the under the harsh fluorescents and looking ever so tempting. If she could just pick it up

(Oh no you don't!)

and maybe drag it down her arm a little, let her lifeblood pool on the floor with the rest of it, maybe this would all end. The nightmare would end and she would wake up, dazed and confused but still back home with her father alive and well and her mother safe in the house and her little brother playing in the woods like he always did-

Amy's hand twitched, fingers scrabbling for the gleaming metal. She dragged herself upright as she clasped the razor, grunting from the exertion before pressing the metal down on her left arm, just below the elbow. As she dragged it down, pushing with all her might, she screamed, not caring by now who heard her. A burning pain engulfed the leaking limb as she cut, but she embraced it, knowing that this would be her way out. This nightmare would end, and she would be free from this cursed body. Trembling, she passed the razor to her other hand and gave her right arm the same treatment. As she worked Amy could feel the strength leaving her, vision darkening around the edges like an old Polaroid photograph. She lay on the floor as a warm blanket crept over her, a smile plastered on her face with a gargantuan effort.

In the back of her mind, a metallic howl rang out as she slipped into the comforting pool of darkness.