Fear
SmudgesWARNING: Mentions of suicide in this chapter. Please read with caution.
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When you got home that night, you had locked yourself in your room and even as Johnny pleaded to talk to you from the other end of your door, you didn’t make a sound hoping that it will fool Johnny into thinking that you’re asleep.
There’s nothing for us to talk about.
That night, you fell asleep facing the razor blade now stained with your blood as you thought of all the circumstances that forced you to take such drastic actions upon yourself.
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As Johnny walked past your room the next morning, he couldn't help himself but to sneak a glance at your door that was still closed at the moment, granting him no access to your form that resides at the other side of the door.
What he did notice was, the absence of the sun rays that would peek through the slit at the bottom of your door by this time of the day, normally casting your white floor in a shade of gold.
Moving the sleeve of his button down shirt up, he glanced at the analogue watch sitting on his wrist, the thin metallic lines forming a perfect right angle between the number 9 and 12.
That's odd, she's always awake by this timing.
Stepping back into his door just adjacent to yours, he walked to the back of his room as he pushed the glass panels open, revealing the balcony that showed a direct view to your balcony next door. True enough, your identical glass panes of the balcony remained shut.
Walking back out briskly, Johnny rapped his knuckles lightly against your door, only to be met with silence. Twisting the metal knob of your door, the metal cool against his skin, he pushed your door open slightly and the first thing that stood out to him was the strong smell of copper in the room.
That's what blood usually smells like...
Then, the gears in his brain clicked together and your back view facing him that granted him no access to your face only served to scare him more. Making his way past your bed, the smell of copper got stronger as he got closer to you a
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