AN: "Razor", a one-shot included in Thirty-One Days of Scarecrow, could easily fit into this collection. Seek it out if you like, but be wary of unpleasant themes.
SwordStitcher-I had my fair share of sunburns. I also had a hat, which worked wonders. But mostly I got sunburns, although those were better than a black eye. Which I also had my fair share of.
Just-Me-and-My-Brain-Foreshadowing...humph. It was too much sun, that was all. Or maybe a self-fulfilled prophecy. Somehow.
Not for the first time, it crosses his mind that he shouldn't be so good at this.
He wrings the washcloth out, watching the warm, bloody water trickle down the rusty drain. She didn't leave him there for long tonight-maybe because it started to rain? That theory doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it's as good as any.
He twists the knob and hears the old pipes gurgle before they spit out more water. It's too hot to feel nice but he doesn't care. He just wants to get cleaned up and go to bed.
Okay…almost done, but there's a nasty scratch on his ribcage that needs attention. It was already scabbed over-those school walls were sharp-and now it had been reopened.
Sometimes he wonders if the world would better off without him.
He presses the hot washcloth against the cut and winces. This…really…hurts.
Okay. Just get it over with.
It's bleeding again, the red seeping into the white washcloth. Well, it's not really white anymore, but…
Okay. Okay. He's done.
He wrings the washcloth out again and slumps over the sink, watching the bloody water trickle down the drain.
When the water is gone, he looks in the streaky mirror. His sickly reflection looks back at him, red cuts standing out in sharp relief.
Maybe the world really would be better off without him.
THE END