Prelude - Part 1

Slish Slash !

Blood oozed from Shayan’s left wrist and colored the washbasin red. It was a horrifying site to see your blood diluting with tap water and going down the drain. However, Shayan seemed to enjoy it.
The face in the mirror showed signs of discomfort and excruciating pain. Shayan began to sweat as well. The smile on his face disappeared as memories unfurled. He pressed his wrist harder to redirect his mind’s attention from memories to the bleeding wrist. Memories that persuaded him to do such creepy things came back to him.

The cut this time was deeper than before. The deepening of the cut was obvious because he has repeatedly slit his wrist at the same spot. Also, the razor was tad sharper. His attempts of crossing out the tattooed A.R. initials with the blade were now boring fruit. The initials were now less visible. He has slit his wrist every night to forget his past but it seldom brought any results. The days he came home drunk were different. He did not do any such masochistic act when sloshed because the alcohol gave him company. After all, alcohol is broken hearts’ best friend.

Suddenly, tap water’s noise began to fade away. Shayan squirmed in discomfort to reach one of the bathroom’s corners. He sat against the wall and his breathing became heavy, the mirror, bathtub, the knife, and all began to sway.

His sight began to degrade. Shayan realized that he was losing consciousness, which brought a tiny smile on his face. He thought it will all pass away, and he will not need to open his eyes again. In his remaining seconds of sobriety, he realized that darkness has been his only friend since beginning. Rest, no matter how much he loved him or HER, they parted ways.

Eventually, it was all pitch black.