You Are The Knife I Turn Inside Myself Novels & Stories

" Just an inch here and there, and I would be dead.... You would be a murderer Rosalina... A killer..." " No..." I whisper. " I didn't realise it was a knife... I.. I... " I again get caught up in my own sentence as I don't know how to explain what I felt that time as I couldn't but pity myself. With every passing day, I am just falling deeper into the look of darkness.

They were both gasping, their lives tied to a thread that was now a fuse. I didn't reach for the axe. I didn't reach for the light. I reached for the kitchen knife in my sack. "I'm not choosing," I told the Goddess in the child's skin. I drove my own blade into the ground at Lumi's feet.

She lifted the knife. “I’ll help the world,” she said. “I’ll help it get rid of you.”The knife started coming down. And in my head, clear and immediate and louder than it had ever been, a voice. Let me out. Not asking. Not requesting. Demanding I didn’t think. Didn’t calculate or hesitate or worry about what would happen or whether it would work or whether this was the right moment. I just said yes. The shift hit me like a wall coming from the inside.

My stomach twisted. “Hayden, please,” I begged. “Just drop the knife. We can talk—just talk.” But he screamed instead. “I said it’s not going to hurt!” The sound of his voice bounced off the walls and straight through my chest. I was frozen, still gripping the cold rail behind me, unsure what he was going to do next. Then… he raised the knife. And I thought he was going to come at me, but instead, he turned the blade on himself.

“You see me breathing. You see me burning. You see me standing here when you swore I was rotting. You thought you buried me, but what you really did was forge me. You turned me into something you cannot kill. You tried to erase me and instead you gave me rage enough to burn the world.” He gripped the knife tighter, his knuckles white, and his words came again, spitting through clenched teeth.

“You are empty enough to fill.” And for the first time, I answer back. “What will I become?” They don’t answer. They don’t have to. Because I already know. I am the vessel. I am the blade. And I am so, so tired of being looked at like a girl who lost something. Let them look again. Let them see what I’ve found.

I was the hand too. I set my glass down and let the thought play louder in my mind. Yes, I could trip Marco. I could make a paper vanish, make a meeting stumble, make the fire on the street reach him too late. But if I did it right, he would not see it as sabotage. He would see it as the world turning against him, and who would he lean on then? Me. I whispered to the room, my voice low, sharp, steady. “If I’m the knife, I’ll choose where to cut.”

Her icy calm didn’t break. “If you won’t do it,” I said, looking right at her, “then I’ll do it myself.” I didn’t mean it. Not really. The thought of actually dying… no. But I had to know. I had to crack that ice. I had to make her feel something, anything, that proved I was more than just a pawn. I turned the blade on myself. I pressed the sharp edge against the inside of my left wrist. I took a breath, and before I could think too hard, I dragged it across my skin.

it. After a while I looked at the knife I was holding. My tears flowed uncontrollably, suddenly I remembered the events of that night, especially Gio's whipping and him pushing me with too much force. I slowly plunged the knife into my wrist and sliced ​​it. Blood came out violently. I feel a mixture of pain and joy. It's like it serves as my comfort. I was so weak that I dropped the knife I was holding. I felt comfortable and loved it. I closed my eyes and smiled like I was going crazy. "Iha!? Open the door, have you finished eating?" NanayKoring shouted outside my room. But I don't have the strength to answer him. It's like I'm dizzy because of the incessant flow of blood in my pulse. "So

Would he really come for me? Or am I truly alone this time too? I’m still wallowing in my thoughts when something cold brushes against my thigh. I stiffen. Slowly, carefully, I reach down and pull it out. A shining knife gleams in the moonlight. My breath catches in my throat. It’s the same knife. The one I had grabbed earlier and threatened to stab Khlan with. He had turned then, distracted by his men, and I had grabbed it. Slipped it inside my bra for…