• The knife glistens in the moonlight. The serrated edge cold against my skin as it pulls across my wrist. The blood that comes forth in rivulets bright crimson on my pale fare skin slick with sweat. I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins anticipating the pain that felt like it was taking forever in registering itself. I can’t scream because the horror of what is happening to me has silenced any notion of the idea. The horror threatens to break me into thousands of pieces willing me to pass out but I won’t I mustn’t I have to know if I am going to die. Then the panic sets in as the knife flashes past my wrist moving quickly and deftly cutting deeper than the first. The realization that I can no longer move my fingers joins the panic the searing pain and the horror of it all. Its all I can do to keep from passing out. My blood is pooling on the ground around me. I feel light headed and nauseas. The knife goes for a third time in the crease at my elbow, more blood pours forth. The pain has stopped but I hadn’t noticed I was confusing it with the anxiety of my death.