The knife

by Rizzo14193

the knife was on the counter it was the perfect was out.

The knife. It beckons me. I answer the call. It blade and handle greets me to pick it up.

I pick the knife up with caution. Its handle fitted perfectly in my hand.

The blade was sharp and dangerous, but yet welcoming and promising that my end would be quick and painless.

I began cry. The thought ran through my head of why this was my answer to all of my problems.

The people loved weren't being loved the right way, and how I wanted my aunt die.

The more I thought about it life wasn't worth living the people I love are leaving and I didn't want to be on in pain anymore all I see is pain around me.

What more could I do then all of anger and disappear went into the knife and on to my wrists. The blood was reliving to see.

I could see all of my problems go away slowly as the blood went down my arm.