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Viewing Single Post From: and you may say to yourself, "My god, what have I done?"
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throw that pussy like i'm famous
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Rhory was still tracing out the mark she’d leave in the girl’s eyes when the mouth started moving. A fuck you chased by some sentimental bullshit. The words didn’t matter. What mattered was that the sharp line of pressure over the collar had lessened and Kimberly was giving her that ugly little pity-smile. She thought of spitting at her. Instead, she started moving her arms.

She was so sure she’d seen her way out. She gave Kimberly her power. She gave her the warrant to act on it. Kimberly had chosen pity instead. No. She’d chosen weakness. Maybe there would have been some time and place where Rhory could have been helped. Maybe charitable little Kimmy could have called her up a suicide hotline and Rhory could get someone to dissect her poor broken brain and she could get little brown bottles of Zoloft to match her sister’s old ones. She remembered the hushed talk of “depression” and “medication” and “therapy” that had surrounded Erika’s high school years. She’d resented it all so much. Poor perfect little Erika. She’s not happy with her perfect life and her perfect grades and her perfect body and clothes and boyfriends. Poor little Erika’s sad. Poor little Erika wants to kill herself over nothing. Rhory understood now. She looked into Kimberly’s marked-up eyes and she knew what it was like to look at something and only see a noose.

Her hands closed around Kimberly’s.

“You spineless cunt.”

She’d make her own noose.

She stretched her neck. She felt the blade shave against the skin. She pushed Kimberly’s hands down hard. The knife slipped easily into the surface.
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and you may say to yourself, "My god, what have I done?" · The Felled Forest: North