The sun was hidden behind a mass of black clouds, the wind howled around me, and my tears froze to my cheeks. The knife in my hand felt cold and heavy as I stared at it, contemplating what i would do next. Did I realy want to die enoguh to cut north and south, or would I chicken out and cut east and west? Would I even be able to cut myself at all? Would anybody notice, or even care, that I'm gone? Hell, did any of that even matter?!
Tears kept falling, even though I had thought that I cried myself dry hours ago. I could no longer feel my fingers or toes, and my body was beginning to compulse from all the shivering I was doing.
"Does it even matter?" I whispered out loud, finally at my breaking point. My mind had finally had enough. "Is life even worth all of this?" I pressed the blade against my wrist and began to slide it along my vein, north and south. I wanted to die, that much I had come to realize. Blood poured down my wrist and tainted the pure white snow around my body. Stopping what I was doing I lay down to bleed out, not once noticing the boy hiding behind the tree.
As I lie there to die he stepped into my line of sight. I turned my head to see him more clearyl. He had to have been my age or a year older, his shaggy, jet black hair was cut so that it fell across his face and covered his eyes. He looked at me curiously, and then seemed to notice all the blood.
He rushed over to me, tearing off his scarf and ripping off the hem of his shirt. It took me a moment to realize that he was trying to make a turniquette. "No," I whispered, trying to find my voice, then giving up when I realized that I was too far gone.
"Why the hell would
you do this?" He screamed at me in a whipser. I felt soem
pressure being applied to my arm, but what I really noticed was that
I felt all fuzzy inside. "Oh, God! Please don't die!" But I
couldn't hear him anymore. I was gone, slipping into blackness.
'Please, let me be dead. Please.'