I lied on the bathtub. My feet rested on the head rest, my camera sitting next to it. The tap dripped hot water onto my face, its wisps of steam condensing on my boxcutter's fine blade. "Bye, world."

I grasped my neck and felt my pulse. Two arteries, two cuts. It hurt, but I didn't care anymore. The hot water washed the blood away, carrying my life within.

I felt my body cooling.

I embraced death's lethargy.

... Then I felt no more flowing blood.

I rose from the bathtub, my fingers inside the open slits on my neck. "What the...?"

-

I'm not dead! Alison is being written, but I don't feel like publishing in parts anymore.