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You are tired, oh so very tired. Sitting in front of the fire, you feel the heat on your face, warming you up. Its too hot, but the cut on your face burns much more intense in its own way.
The bleeding happened some time ago now, but it has not yet stopped. A thought fires through your mind, that you cant just bleed out like this, and it has to stop. <span class="mu-r">Now.</span>
Knife in the fire, warming up with sizzling blood still on it, you prepare yourself for intense pain.
You use both hands to wipe your face as clean of blood and muck as possible, then grab the knife by the handle.
With one hand feeling along the edge of the cut on your face, the scalding knife follows to seal the deal. You struggle through the ordeal, fainting and passing out at intervals, but you soldier on.
Your entire face feels boiling and fatigued, hurting like hell. You trace the knife along for the home stretch, and then colapse next to the fire, eyes open. As you lay there, you realize you have been singing through the entire ordeal, as your voice fades out along with your conscience.
Something broke inside you tonight. And something was born.
<span class="mu-r">Choose one:</span>
>An Edge
>The Fire
>A Chain
>A Crescendo
>Write in
