Darkness surrounds her, slowly numbing her entire being. Her body has not consumed much in the past few days, and the pain it has caused is becoming too familiar; she needs something more, something worse. Her pale, bony fingers lightly trace the old scars on her diminishing thighs, craving new cuts; but she has been accustomed to that pain for some time now, The idea she has had for days arrives in her deranged mind once more.

Her blue eyes shimmer as they glance at the crinkled pack of cigarettes on the counter next to where she sits on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. She brings her weak figure to pick one up and places the cancer stick in between her chapped lips while pulling the lighter from her back pocket. She stares at the object after she lights the cigarette as she blows thick smoke into the cold atmosphere. Her small thumb rests on the metal wheel, as she starts to light it again; her eyes bore into the orange flame as it flickers, causing a dim light to illuminate the room.

Curiously, she brings the flame close to the porcelain skin of her tiny wrist. As it starts to burn, she hisses in pain but never removes the flame from its place, relishing the new pain. In fact, she quite enjoys this anguish. As the burn intensifies, a smiles forms on her face and a maniacal laugh erupts from her infinitesimal frame. Her ocean colored eyes watch as her flesh reddens and the burn worsens.

Suddenly, another idea comes to her crazed mind. A smirk paints itself on her lips as she remembers that her father leaves a gallon of gasoline in the cluttered garage for his mower. Carefully, she brings the container into the bathroom, placing it on the linoleum as a smile rests on her ghostly face. Before she goes further, she puts out her cigarette, focusing on the task at hand. Her weak hands pour the ill-scented liquid into the tub, staining the acrylic material.

Slowly, she peels of her clothes, piece by piece. She slides down into the tub, and stares at the metal object still in her fingers. For some time, she plays with the metal wheel. At last, she builds up the courage to do it. She spins the wheel swiftly, creating a tiny spark. It’s just enough. The liquid in the tub is no longer. A stupendous flame replaces it. Her lungs burst from the screams that tear at her throat. The pain consumes her, as her mind melts with her flesh. All of the pain she has been through is over; the world is black.

~~~

Another small one: 446 words

He sank down on the ground, and buries his face in his hands. Just knowing he’ll never be able to see her again kills him. Why did they have to fight? If they didn’t, she would not have left so angry. He cannot help but blame himself, no matter what anyone says. She is dead, and it is because of his mistake. But he was drunk that night, and that girl looked just like her in the darkness of the bar and in his drunken state, he didn’t think any differently.

But now, he sits next to her grave, tears staining his cheeks, but no one would even be able to tell; they mixed so well with the rain. “I miss you, Rach,” he whispers to the stone in front of his sobbing figure. “I’m so damn stupid!”

Suddenly, he hears footsteps behind him. He is quick to turn and see who is spying on his weak stature, but the graveyard is empty. He is all alone. Finally, it hits him; the realization of the truth resonates in his scattered mind. There is no one for him to turn to anymore. She was his everything, and still is. Without her, what else is there for him to be happy about?

“I can’t live without you,” his voicelessness blends with the chilling breeze as he pulls the pistol from his heavy coat pocket. He places the cold metal to his temple with his shaking hands.

Then.

A single gunshot.

As the bullet rushes into him, his lifeless body collapses on the wet ground just above her coffin. Finally, they are together again.

~~~

Just a drabble. A mere 274 words (: