In the cool water,
My hand is underneath,
Being washed by the salt,
And was hit with the impact of it's pain.
Now bone is in view,
The white a bit and covered in red,
But skin still there to hold strong,
Yet at same time still dragging,
And a pool of red appeared,
Like mist on a foggy bank,
And clouding your vision till its impossible.
But it still gives way,
As you squint to see the world before you.
My eyes make things up,
As I stare at the hand,
Being dragged by the stream.
Imagining,
A glow of scales,
Brushing,
Pushing,
Playing with my finger tips.
A flow of memories appear,
Me smiling,
And dad as well,
But soon was drowned in the red mist,
And appearing,
A shiny piece of blade danced in my hand.
I took a few breaths to myself,
But it was stopped as a call came,
I think it was a robin,
But turned to words, "Ericah!"
My teeth grind and eyes flared.
They were targeting the person,
The tall woman in blue and stupid putrid white.
I got up as I stroll back.
Her face was big and bloated like a gas pump,
She always pissed me off.
"It's against the rules of this camp."
She scolded me as she tried to show her fierceness,
"You can't do this again! Please no more!"
She kept saying that kind of stuff like its her religion or something.
I just sighed and answered, "Whatever dude."
She took my wrist,
The one not in blood,
Burning my sensitive nerves in my skin.
And removed the weapon I held.
She placed it in her far pocket,
Away from my reach.
"If you run off one more time I have no choice but to call quits for you in this camp. For good."
It echoed as it only brought both happiness and grief.
For good.
I wish it would be for good,
To get out of this world would be for good.
To be able to sleep soundly,
And never awake up will be good.
But if my parents found out,
The way I think to me is enjoyable,
They would never let me hear the end of it.
She then started to drag me,
Away from the bloody mess I made,
As I was upon the bank of a river.
It was where papa and I would fish.
But now here, its a camp site.
A worthless site it was,
An all girls seclusion.
The mad of the mad come here,
And I just happened to be special.
No,
"Special".
We trotted to my cabin,
Two girls that were usually there were gone.
Thank God I thought.
As she was going to let me go,
She took her sleeve,
Ripping a cloth,
And tying around my wrist.
The blood stained the blue,
Like a genocide was taking place in a vast ocean,
The scales turn to a rusty red.
"Please stop doing this cutting. The only thing your doing is hurting yourself."
But if anything she hurts me more then what I do to my body.
Her authority,
The right she thinks disgusts me.
If anything I'm only doing this in sake of my father.
It's pathetic effort but its true.
She sighs as she places me in my cabin,
Opening the door to a old place,
With holes in the wood,
And vines that hang everywhere.
It felt more jungle then a simple forest.
I just sit on my bed,
And had to be the one that was the closest to the door.
I hold my wrist,
Wishing to squeeze the bandage off.
She then leaves.
I knew though she didn't.
She was probably now going to a place close by.
To keep track.
To keep watch.
My hand is underneath,
Now bone,
But skin still there.
Always,
Always there.
