His arms wrapped around him, and honestly, he didn't care that the blood stained his shirt. They were fighting again. It was worse than any pain he had caused himself. Shaking, he slipped off the black silk on his bed and onto the minty carpet.
Spots of bright red stood out on the minty-green. Mother would kill him for sure, but that didn't even rouse him to move. Being too tired and empty of life, even, he let down the walls for a moment and began sobbing.
Note from Alex:
Half-asleepness.
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