Novel & Cerita You Are The Knife I Turn Inside Myself

I smiled. Not because I meant to. But because the thing inside me wanted them to see it. The elders froze. My hand gripped the blade. My palm bled gold and black, mixing like ink spilled in sunlight. The chamber seemed to tighten around me. Too quiet. Too still. Kael called my name. I couldn’t answer him. “We should burn this place,” the wolf said inside me. “Start over.” I dropped the knife. The clatter echoed like thunder.

In the window's reflection, I saw myself—bruised, broken, wearing lingerie that cost more than a month's salary at the diner. The knife stilled in my hand. Once, I'd been an artist. Once, I'd painted storms like this one, all wild passion and barely contained power. Once, I'd been alive. The knife clattered into the sink as Marcus's key turned in the lock. I straightened my spine, pasted on a smile, and turned to face my reality. Some nights change everything. But this wasn't that night. Not yet.

I couldn’t help but feel like there was something I was supposed to do with this knife. I figured it out instantly. Alpha Klaus was going to kill me in public, but how? Burn me to death? Whip me to death? Cut off my head? If he wasn’t going to kill me he would probably make people remember me whenever they lay eyes on me. Like cutting off my hands, or burning them beyond healing. Point is, he was going to make me suffer severely. But no, I won’t give him that satisfaction. As soon as the guards come to take me, I will put this knife in my heart. It won’t be painless but it will be instant. A lot of pain for maybe less than a minute, then nothing. Or maybe I should do it now. What if I didn’t

Kill them" They shoved the knife into my hand, its cold, unforgiving weight settled into my little trembling fingers. Tears blurred my vision, but I felt their eyes on me- waiting, daring me to hesitate. I looked down at the knife, the blade gleaming, and felt a sick, twisting sensation in my stomach. My body was shaking, but the grip on my shoulder was firm, urging me forward. As my hand moved, as the blade found its mark again and again, a quiet scream built inside me, swelling with each tear shed.

They believed that if I just gave in and said I was fine, all those crimes would disappear beneath a pile of money. However, I was no longer that little girl waiting at the far end of the long table for scraps of cold leftovers. Never again would I denigrate myself just to protect my family's reputation.

And did I mention it's the same knife from which he carved my body with his initials? Within few seconds my mind come up with thousand of memories and possibilities that can happen right. Even though I had fair share of ideas and possibilities that more probably be my faith yet I wasn't so sure if which one was about to happen or if there are more scenarios that my mind cannot grape at. Though with the thousands of emotions and words colliding inside of my skull one thing was for sure and that was, I'm doomed... My apprehension about the nearby future about my faith was answered within seconds as he rested his Sharpe tiny knife against the sensitive flesh of my skin.

Can't he see I'm suffering? "Here goes"

Instead of throwing me out, he could cast into the darkest dungeon, or kill me. Which was better– to cower behind the walls of this room? Or to fight for myself? The answer rang; loud and clear in my ears. ‘They think I’m mad. How about I show them what madness looks like?’ A bitter smile tugging my lips, I walked to the shelf, raising myself on my toes, I reached for a knife and the smile on my lips broadened. Slowly, I sauntered to the closest wall and began writing incoherent wordings. Ouch! I cut myself with the knife, but continued writing.

I had tried several times and never anything happened. "Sanchi, I need you to calm down." His hand grasped mine but I kicked it. It wasn't some joke. He had no idea how I felt. How I bath in guilt and regret every night. How everything around me tormented me. How I hide the real me by my armor. Every morning I betrayed myself believing I wouldn't feel any regret. I betrayed myself believing my life was perfect. I wanted to live in this betray even if it killed me. "Bear calm down. I'm here." He touched my hand softly and squeezed it. "I'll go with you. I'm with you."

My already racing heart begins pounding inside of my chest as I watch him turn around to see me; everythings in slow-motion, but I wish it would just stop altogther so I didn't have to go through any more pain. I want to turn around and run again, but I don't because there isn't a single ounce of energy or hope for myself. All I want to do is go over to that block of knives sitting neatly beside that espresso machine and shove it so deep inside my chest that it comes out my back.