You Are The Knife I Turn Inside Myself Novels & Stories

I’m nothing but a passenger in my own flesh. It’s like someone else is inside me, piloting me. And they like this. When I step back to look at what I’ve done, bile rises up my throat—but I swallow it, because I can’t even gag properly. I just watch as I reach down into the bag again. A knife. Old. Dull at the edge, sharp enough at the tip. I don’t even hesitate.

I reached for the table behind me, picking up a glinting knife that rested among other tools. I turned the knife in my hand around, allowing the light catch the blade. “Let’s do this again, shall we?” “You see, people think men like me don't feel anything. That we are made of stone.”I laughed again, almost bitterly as I knelt back down. The man’s eyes widened as I raised the knife, pressing the cold steel against his cheek. “But what they don't realize is. We. Feel. Every. Damn. Thing.” “I feel the weight of every decision I make” I murmured. My voice almost a whisper. “Every life I take. And you—you made me choose to be here today”

A knife standing on its edge moved, giving off a glint of the sun coming in through the window, and this caught Rose's gaze as the knife paused. "You," Rose said, looking at the knife. "You go first." "Your Grace," the knife said with the voice of a man, "I didn't intend drawing attention to myself." "But you must speak. I command it. Tell me what bothers you. Tell me about yourself." "As you wish, Your Grace. There's nothing to see in me. I'm a reflection of the man who wields me, and usually also a reflection of the thing that's he's about to cut. I have no skill to fight. But since man lacks claws, he's settled to using me to cause injury, and death. I am nothing but a piece of metal, pas

I glanced back and when I saw I was close to the kitchen, I ran into the kitchen and reached for the knife. “I’ll stab myself if they don’t stop hurting him!” I yelled, holding the knife with my hands and pointing it to my belly. “You wouldn’t do that.” He responded with a straight face, staring at the knife in my hand. “Oh, you’ll be surprised! I don’t want to be alive anyway! You and my father have done nothing but torture me. I don’t mind ending it right now!” I further pushed the knife to my belly, making it touch my skin.

“Do you remember?” I gulped really hard then something inside me snapped. My fingers closed around the knife on the table. Before I could think— Before I could stop— I drove it into my stomach.

I rushed toward her. “Give me the knife.” “I deserve this! I do! They tell me that I'm the one that killed them. They… they.” She hyperventilated. “Just hand me the knife.” Tears streamed down her face, but I could see the alarm and fear in her eyes. It was like she was in a different kind of reality, fighting a different kind of battle. “I need to hurt myself too. I need to. You're one of them! How could you do this to me?! You are them!”

' My lips parted as I talked to myself. "What did you do?" The lights flickered on and off. On and off. On and off. The hall began to change to the kitchen. There in front of me the mirror changed to my father's appearance. He stood in front of me now. His blue eyes widened as tears filled them. He lowered his eyes to look down. I looked down too. His hand touched mine as I realized I was pushing a knife into his chest. 'Bloody fucking Cromwell.'

“I’m taking them down from the inside.” That made me freeze. Just for a second. Just enough. My blade was still at his throat, the tip barely grazing skin, close enough that one twitch from me and it would all be over. My hands shook, my chest rising and falling like a beast trying to tear out of my ribs. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to watch the light leave his eyes. But his words echoed, twisting in my head. “I never left you. I did what I had to. I'm inside now. Deep. Closer than any of them suspect.”

FADING INTO BROKENNESS: I don't fight the knife that pierces my veins I welcome this darkness inside to help me forget my pain, my brokenness, my shame Dark red trickles down my arm A little secret of mine, known as self-harm Anger builds up inside I got to let these feelings out But to who can I confide? A dark silver blade is what I trust The one that I turn to when life is too tough. My life is too tough now that I don't want to live anymore But when I leave this world I'll be be free and in the sky I will soar. I will live the rest of my days in peace with my mother under her tree. That way I will be away from the one that that is filled with hate.

Heart pounding and threatening, still not anymore would I wait, not anymore day do I want to spend in this shitty world of pain, not anymore seconds and minutes do I want to pass Shifting my gaze back to the sharp little knife in my hand, with my heart already concluded, I swallowed hard before bringing it close, close to my target, close to my very end. Looking at the knife with tears dripping down my eyes, at last if this was story of my life and if this was really the shit that fucking fate had written down for me, then am sorry, I don't want to part of it anymore... Not... anymore.... With tears ever flowing down my eyes, I cried and shedded hard, but still my memory wasn't satisfied wit