“Dude, I am WONDEROUSLY high.” he giggled, holding the phone to his ear with no small amount of effort. He walked across the basement, turning up the music, letting the beat pulse in time with the other, internal pulse he was feeling. Thank god his parents were gone, he really wasn't sure how he could deal with them right now. He flopped on to the couch, giggling again, legs hanging over the end of the couch.
“Yeah, Scott was over a hour or so ago, he had some bomb shit man. I was playing Brawl, and I swear to god it was like mario and pikachu were on my floor fighting!” he giggled again, rubbing his slightly numb face. He wiped his hand on the couch, laughing again.
“Oh hell yes, i'm not working tomorrow, get the hell over…” he trailed off, looking at the couch. A vaguely hand-shaped blotch of blood was smeared on the ratty fabric. He blinked, staring at it, then touched his face. He pulled it away bloody, staring stupidly at it for several seconds.
“uh, dude, I gotta go man, I'm bleeding somewhere…no, it's fine, just…I'll call you back, ok?” He hung up the phone, still looking at his bloody hand. He tossed it to the floor, nearly running to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror as he washed his hand, trying to find where in the hell he'd cut himself. The whole side of his face was streaked with blood now, and he washed and wiped it off, trying hard to keep calm.
He eventually found a tiny wound near his hairline, still dribbling blood. “Fuck, man…” he whispered, trying to get a good look at it and stay steady on his feet. It was as he started looking for a band-aid that he saw the drops of blood splattered over the sink. He wondered if it was from his head again…no, he'd cleaned those up, and…he suddenly looked down at his fingers, feeling a warm wetness over them.
It was like he'd caught a ball of razor blades.
He started hyperventilating, looking at his hands as they oozed blood from dozens of tiny cuts, an icy sobriety slamming down on him like a hammer. He grabbed the towel, trying to calm down, stammering to himself “go call the doctor, just call the doctor” over and over like a mantra. He felt blood drool down his face, wicking in to his eye with a salty sting, and felt his slippery grip on control weaken more.
He grabbed up the phone in a panic, blood making it as slippery as soap. He tried again and again to touch the dial button, used the screen, but the blood made it impossible, making him eventually toss the phone away with a hissed “Fuck!” and a panicked moan. He looked at his hands, feeling dizzy, from blood loss or blind fear, he didn't know. He looked at his slick red arms, eyes going wide.
Tiny cuts were crawling up his arms like ants.
He started breathing too fast, too loud, like a pulsing scream as invisible razors seemed to be sliding along his arms, leaving a dotted line of blood. He couldn't feel the cuts, just feel the blood pour and pulse. He started screaming, turning around, shaking his arms, trying to make it stop, or find the source, or something. He ran upstairs, blood dripping and smearing the walls as he fell, screaming for help, of the doctor, or anybody as he ran outside in to the icy night air.
He ran, all the houses dark, pounding on a neighbors door and crying for help, moaning as he felt blood start to weep and pour hotly along his chest. He started crying, eyes getting hazy with blood, as he looked for something, someone to help. Suddely, he heard a noise, a deep rumble…a car engine. The park across the street…
He could see headlights.
He ran, screaming, feeling the cuts open up rivers of blood along his legs, his back, his lips…he gagged as his mouth welled up with coppery blood. He ran, and ran, watching the headlights grow bigger, seeing the shape of a parked van swim up through the darkness. He cried and yelled, waving his arms, half-blind and dizzy, feeling more floaty and light headed by the second.
He didn't even see the river until he'd hit the water.
Unknown body recovered from park
Police recovered a body from Island Park early this morning. The corpse was spotted by a early-morning jogger, lodged in a drainage pipe. Due to the recent rains, the river was very high and fast-flowing, and it appears that the body suffered grievous damage from rocks and wood during its travel. Police are currently trying to determine the identity of the body, and to ascertain whether accident or foul play led to the body entering the river. The extreme damage, however, is complicating both these goals. Persons having any information regarding this incident are encourage to contact the police.