She barged into the bathroom, nearly tripping over the threshold. She went straight to the vanity, bottom drawer on the right. Under the first aid supplies, carefully hidden in the back. She reached her arm in and grabbed hold of one of the little boxes and pulled it out. She opened it and stopped short.
Sunset turned to herself in the mirror. “What are you doing?” she asked, “This isn't you.”
Her body didn't answer, but cried out: “Do it!”
Sunset yelled. She was no longer in control. She took out a little item wrapped in paper, casting the rest aside.
She removed the paper and placed the razor to her wrist.
She held her breath.
She wanted to stop. She wanted to cry for help. But, she was alone. No one would hear her.
This was all she had.
“Wallflower, please,” she pleaded.
She gritted her teeth; she pressed the razor into her flesh.
Almost immediately, she yelped in pain. But her body cried out for more.
Inhaling sharply through her teeth, Sunset pressed the blade further and pulled it down her forearm.
She cried out again, dropping the razor to the floor, she grabbed her bleeding arm, though in vain. Blood was already running down her hand, dripping onto the floor.
As she watched the puddle grow, her breathing leveled out. A calm began to come over her.
Maybe it was just the loss of blood, maybe it was the sudden drop in blood pressure.
Lightheadedness hit her and she crumpled to the floor, leaning against the vanity. Tilting her head back, she wondered how she came to this place.
It had started as a feeling, more a curiosity. A strange inclination, a temptation, an urge.
She had stood in the kitchen, a knife in one hand, red pepper in the other. Wallflower was to be coming home soon and Sunset wanted to have supper ready. The casserole had been baking way in the oven and all that was left had been the salad.
But Sunset stood, frozen, focused on the chef's knife. The sharpness of the blade, how it glistened.
What does it feel like?
Try it and find out.
Sunset snapped to attention. Where did that come from?
She jumped at another noise. Quickly, she turned to face it. Wallflower Blush was standing in the doorway, a wide smile on her lips.
“I'm home,” she had said before proceeding to remove her shoes and outerwear. “Smells good in here. Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” Sunset smiled, “just a little tired.” Her smile widened as she locked lips with Wallflower.
“Well,” said Wallflower, taking the knife, “seems you've done enough work. Take a little break and I'll finish the salad.”
“If you don't mind. I only have the peppers left. You want a drink? How was class?”
“Class was okay. And I'll just have water for now.”
Sunset grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled both with ice and water. “Learn anything interesting?”
“Not really. Just preparing for our exam next week. How big do you want these pieces?”
“That's good.” Sunset made a quick check on the casserole. “What about your other classes?”
“Same. It's all finals. Afraid I may pull a few all-nighters in the next few days.”
Sunset gave a sly look. “That's fine,” she said, “so long as you let me help you relax later.”
“After, you will have my undivided attention.” She threw the chopped peppers into the salad. “How much longer till dinner?”
Sunset looked at the timer. “Just under five minutes.”
---
Sunset loaded the dishwasher. Behind her, she could hear Wallflower walking up with the dishes from the table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw plates being set on the counter. She smiled slightly as arms wrapped around her waist. She could feel a head being pressed into her back.
“Seeing as we're both tired,” Wallflower said, “why not call it an early night?”
“Don't you have homework?”
“Nothing I can't get done before class. And,” she yawned, “I can do it better after a good night's rest.”
“Okay,” chuckled Sunset, “I suppose going to bed early would do us both a bit of good. Grab me a detergent pod.”
“Here. Can you take it from here? I want to take a shower.”
“Yeah, I'm just about done. Towels are in the dryer.” She smiled as Wallflower hugged her again, then watched as Wallflower sauntered toward the bedroom.
Sunset organized the rest of the dishware before making a final check around the kitchen. She soon found she had missed an item.
Picking up the chef's knife, she examined it.
What had happened earlier? Was it just a fleeting curiosity? Could it ever come back?
She looked at the blade; its fine edge. There was a certain allure to it. A certain danger she found exciting.
She knew what it was like to cut herself. The pain was not unknown. She'd done it several times, though never deliberately. Though a careless slip of a knife or a misplaced finger was far different from purposefully slashing one's own flesh.
She looked around, knowing full-well Wallflower was still in the shower. Still, didn't hurt to make sure.
Her heart quickened as she laid the knife upon her forearm. Her breathing deepened.
Slowly, she let the blade glide across her skin. It tingled. Reapplying the knife, she tried again. It was the weirdest sensation. She went again, running in a different direction.
The blade sang as it danced on her skin.
Did it really sing? Sunset listened more closely. The blade was definitely making some sort of high-pitched zing!
Maybe not a “zing”. It reminded Sunset of a bow passing over a string.
Perhaps that was it.
Sunset looked at her arm. She hadn't broken any skin, but she could feel the trace of each pass of the knife. She turned her arm over, examining both sides.
Satisfied with her experiment, Sunset threw the knife into the dishwasher and started it.
---
The bathroom was still filled with steam when Sunset entered it. She wiped the mirror with the hand towel, it fogged up again almost immediately. Admitting defeat, Sunset grabbed her toothbrush.
The sound of bristles on teeth filling the air, her mind wandered back to the kitchen, to the chef's knife. Her forearm still tingled slightly. Sunset took another look at it. Her skin was still intact. She thought maybe she had cut the uppermost layer. But, she found no such evidence.
Still, she wondered what had possessed her to do it. Further, the fact she had given in to the temptation scared her.
But, where were these feelings coming from?
She spat into the sink, rinsing first with a bit of water before taking a swig of mouthwash.
Spitting her wash into the sink, wiping her mouth with a piece of tissue. She threw it and the cup into the trash. A pong! then the sound of something bouncing rapidly on the tile.
Sunset sighed—she'd missed the basket. Bending over, she searched for where the little disposable cup had landed. She found it about a foot away, slightly under the sink vanity.
With the cup where it belonged, Sunset set to putting her things away. Only for a careless swipe to send a precariously placed tube of toothpaste over the edge, and directly into the trash can.
Sunset sighed again and proceeded to retrieve her toothpaste. Almost brand new, its weight had sent it directly to the bottom. Sunset had to dig a bit before she could lay eyes on it. Though, in rummaging around, more than just the toothpaste caught her eye.
Perplexed, she removed the crumpled pieces of tissue. Cautiously, she unfolded a wad. Peering inside, her stomach wrenched.
Blood. Fairly fresh, by the look of it.
“You okay in there, Sunset?” came a voice from the bedroom.
Sunset slowly stood up and opened the door. Wallflower was sitting on the bed, her face quickly turning to concern to match Sunset's expression.
“Is something wrong?”
“Are you bleeding?” Sunset asked.
“What?” her eyes fell on the tissues in Sunset's hand, “Oh, no! Well not anymore. I nicked myself while shaving.” She raised a portion of her pajama pants to show a small bandage upon her leg. “You sure you're okay?” She began to rise from the bed, “Sunset? You're looking pale.”
“I...” Sunset began, “I don't know.” She jumped slightly as Wallflower took the tissues from her hand.
“Well,” she smiled, walking into the bathroom, “let's put these back where they belong. What were you doing digging in the trash anyway?”
“I dropped my toothpaste.”
“Did you get it out? No, wait, here it is.” Wallflower placed the tube back on the counter before walking out the bathroom, grabbing Sunset as she did so. “Come on,” she said, pulling Sunset toward the bed, “you seem extremely tired tonight.”
“Yeah,” Sunset said, falling on the mattress, “maybe you're right.”
“You know I'm right.” She joined Sunset under the covers, snuggling tightly to her body.
Sunset smiled at the closeness. She moved her arms around Wallflower. “Maybe, we can have a nice, big breakfast in the morning.”
Wallflower let out a yawn. “Yeah, that sounds good.” She snuggled her face into Sunset's shoulder and quickly fell silent.
Sunset laid awake, listening to Wallflower's gentle breathing. Her mind a wash with thoughts.
What had happened earlier in the kitchen? Where did those thoughts come from? Why was she feeling them?
It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before--anything she'd felt before.
Sure, Sunset had had her lows before, but this felt different. This felt new.
Why had she done that? Would she have actually done it?
It made no sense.
And yet, now, the feeling seemed gone. All urges seem to have faded. Her mind seemed clear.
She took in a deep breath, which turned into a yawn.
Maybe she was just tired. Maybe a good night's sleep was all she needed.
She adjusted her pillow slightly, careful not to disturb Wallflower and fell fast asleep.