Project Heartbreak
“Is that real? Does the blood really come out like that? In, like, a… spray?”
He didn’t tell me to look away. He didn’t change the channel. He just shifted on the couch, pulling me a little closer. “Yeah, buddy,” he said, his voice calm, matter-of-fact. “It can.” His finger, warm and calloused, touched the side of my neck, right under my ear. “See, if you cut right here, where this big pulse is, it’s like hitting a water main. It gushes.”
He traced a line down. “Here, it’s slower and messier. Here…” He pressed a spot near my collarbone. “that’s a real bad one. Takes longer.”