• tab Slow threads of rubies made streams down her open wrists. She smiled though, it felt like warm rain water instead of the sticky vital fluid.

    “Such an amusing way I am to die…” the girl thought as fog crept into world of vision. “But it‘s all for the sake of one last masterpiece.”

    --------

    The girl looked up from munching on the ice in her glass, titling her head at a friend’s words. “Wait, what did you say?”

    “I said, suicide.” the other looked serious, but the girl laughed.

    “Write about suicide? That‘s kinda funny.” she pondered on the suggestion though. “…I don‘t know what any sort of suicide feels like though. Like my teacher said, it‘s better to write what you know about.”

    Sighing the boy only waved off the cryptic proposal. “Well, you can also research things. There are people who have accounts of trying to commit suicide, but still ended up living.”

    Nodding her head, the girl agreed, though still felt like arguing for the sake of it. “But, to create such a work for my class, I would really need to have lived it. Or well, died it.”

    Rolling his eyes, the friend merely took another sip of his drink before standing up to pay their bill. “In any case, you can‘t really commit suicide and then write about what happened.”

    “Haha, some cultures believe that the spirit takes a journey to other people‘s bodies when they are asleep. Death is just like that, right? Maybe I can just make my soul travel to another person.”

    Silence consumed the two, as the female stared her friend down with a cocky smile, and the boy could only try to produce concern at all her implications. “Look, if you seriously think that‘s going to happen. I would love to see you try, darling. Until then, hand over your credit card so I can split our bill properly.”

    Nodding, the girl followed her friend to the front, waiting for the waitresses to ring up their bill. “…You know, dying for your last masterpiece wouldn‘t be a bad death.”

    The friend pushed the other, mostly playfully, but along with annoyance. “Drop it, ok? That s**t‘s morbid to think about. You killing yourself for a ‘magnum death wish opus’ for your writing class, is a little too ridiculous to even think about.”

    “…But I am…”

    Glancing nervously to the side at his friend, the waitress finally came back to give the two back their golden money. “Thank you. Prease come again.”

    Both tilted their bodies a little at the Thai woman, walking out together, in a somewhat awkward silence.

    The ride home was much the same as the two companion’s departure; awkward and quiet. When they came upon the girl’s house, she got out of the creaky car, waving happily, as if she didn’t tell her friend she might kill herself for the sake of writing. “Have a good night!”
    Biting his, lip the boy motioned for the other to come back for a second, hugging the girl and giving her one last serious stare. “Please, just go to wikipedia. I‘m sure they have a ‘committing suicide out of curiosity‘ article. Or at least a death wish section…”

    “No worries. Night.” She shut the door, walking slowly at first, but then turning back to her friend’s car to smile and then skip the rest of the way into her home.

    It was dark in the lonely house. Nothing to make a sound but the dust that mingled with the girl’s breathing.

    She wandered up to her room, wondering about how she would go about writing her story. “Can I really…?” Her thoughts hesitated. “… Maybe if I just cut myself, I can get the feeling I want to write.” she nodded at her self. “Now, is it across the street or down the road…?”

    She went into her kitchen after turning on her laptop, searching for something that would go deep but clean. “Ok so…the ceramic knives would be perfect.” The girl sort of ceased at the thoughts though. How morbid she was thinking was frightening, but entertaining at the same time.

    Picking up her research tool, she went back to her room, sitting down on the floor to lean against her bed. “… Ok, here I go.”

    Closing those glazed over eyes again she, pressed the tip to the top of her wrists, hesitating, breathing, before finally applying pressure and feeing the blade slip into her veins, blood immediately flowing down.

    The strange thing though the girl found… it felt good. It felt like life was flowing out of her to the off-white carpet. It felt like what brilliance was made of. She could surely write her story now, she could make something that would shock, that would be beautiful. So she thought, why stop there?

    Another gush on the opposite side, a rush of life, this is surely what dreams are made of. “I have to keep going… I have to…”

    -----

    “All for the sake of shocking my class… just to put surprise into all of our boring life’s…” Her bluing lips curved into a smirk. “How will they critique this? I wonder…”

    She closed her eyes, breathing in any sort of energy around to get to her opened laptop. “Even just one sentence, one sentence even counts as a story… I can… do this…” shaking, plum finger tips, pressed against the letters on the keyboard, using mostly her memory of where each key resided, to type out a final story she knew would make everyone cringe… “Not even love is worth the beauty of my words… it will all end here…”

    One dot appeared on the screen that resembled computer paper, before the thin hand dropped along with the heavy body, no longer having air to make it lighter.

    And the cursor on the screen winked in a mocking loop, waiting to show the next person who found it’s owner, her last stroke of genius.

    Death… it feels like our masterpiece.