Your Words Cut Deeper Than A Knife Novelas e Histórias

He pressed the knife more, making me wince again. "God, this hurts like a bitch. Are you crazy, Lance?" "Wrong choice of words." With that, he started cutting deeper. If I didn't stop him, I would lose four fingers, only my thumb would be cut off later because it was a little bit away from the other fingers.

“We are going to have a little conversation, and when we’re done, you are going to tell me every single thing I need to know. If you don’t…” “You are wasting your time,” he interrupted, his voice low and hoarse. “I’ll never talk.” I bent over and leaned into look at him in the eyes. “You are stressing me. You and I know that is what everyone always says. And yet, somehow, they always do.” “I still won’t talk. I’m different from the other weaklings.” I stood straight again and held up my knife, letting the edge shine as the light reflected on it. “Do you know how butchers cut open their kill?” I asked him. “I have always wondered how much joy they got and how they go about it.”

This time, there would be no room for error, no space for mercy, no possibility of survival. "I should have stabbed the knife directly into his heart," I spat, my voice dropping into a guttural, cruel register that seemed to come from somewhere deep and primal within me. "I should have twisted it until I felt the muscle stop twitching beneath my fingers. I should have carved my name into his ribs so he knew exactly who was sending him to hell." The words tasted like copper and ash on my tongue, bitter and satisfying all at once. I wanted to savor them, to roll them around in my mouth until they became a prayer, a mantra, a promise written in blood.

Her words hung in the air like a knife. —

The sharp sound echoed inside the home, and blood trickled from the corner of my lips. She screeched, "How dare you interrupt when an elder is speaking! Is that how your parents raised you? Besides, am I wrong? Chuck would never have fallen for someone like you if you didn't seduce him!"

Lee had been nothing but true to him despite how he treated her. She was patient with him until he hurt her beyond repair. Words were poisonous in their own right. Once uttered, they can never be taken back. Neither can the damage they caused to be repaired. They cut deeper than a sword. He couldn't begin to imagine how hurt she was when he felt shredded to pieces by his own words. He would take them back if he could. Like a dog that ate its vomit. He would happily do it just to remove the pain from her heart and to make her forget.

And felt nothing but hurt and pain. And with every word that came from his mouth, I died a little more. "Lying bitch! Stupid whore! Disease ridden!" Rip. Slash. Cut. Burn. His words were a hundred fists punching into my gut. His words were fifty knives slashing at my chest. His words were a sword, cutting me off. His words were a thousand kicks to the back of my knees. His words were a gunshot to my spine, shooting me and scattering me to pieces, the sound of the explosion, ricocheting in my ears.

“Your brother is better than you…” Another cut. His arm was shaking now, crimson staining his hand, dripping steadily. “What a cherry I am. I am more edible than the runs girls…” The knife pressed again, blood spreading. “I am filthy… I am useless…” Each sentence ended with another slash, another line across his arm, another drop of blood soaking the floor. He didn’t blink.,He didn’t cry rather his face was eerily calm, detached, as if this act was the only thing that made sense anymore.

he said, his words slicing through the room like a blade. Fuck!

"A knife can be used to wound, yes. But it can also be used to sever bindings. It can be used to carve out a sanctuary. It depends entirely on whose hand is holding the hilt, and what they intend to do with the blade." Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, a hot, sudden pressure. "I don't want to hide anymore," I whispered, the confession tearing out of me. "I don't want to skulk in the shadows and observe other people's lives. But I miss my voice. I miss knowing how to explain the world." "Then explain our world," he answered immediately, without a single fraction of hesitation. I blinked, the tears spilling over my lashes. "What?"