The drip drip drip or the tub faucet the only sound in the white-washed bathroom. She sat trembling in the remnants of water sitting in the bottom of the white and grey tub.

Clutching her forearm, she shakily raised the blade she gripped tightly in her hand. Laying the razor-sharp edge to her scared skin, she dragged the knife across her arm. Deep red blood welled from the cut, spilling down her pale skin in thin streams. She raised the blade and again and again she marked her skin.

The sound of thundering steps outside the locked bathroom door startling her, her hand slipped and the knife dug into her flesh. She looked down at the piece of silver sticking from her arm and felt the stinging heat of tears surface in her eyes. They pooled at the corners and fell down her shocked face. Her green eyes fogged over with the pain from the cut, but she didn't cry out, she didn't whimper, she didn't plead. She just sat in the water at the bottom of the moldy tub and slide the blade free moving to cut another slice into her skin.

The pain filled her mind, hazing over the memories and agony. The blood flowed from her arm and dripped onto the smooth white ceramic surface. Red swirled in the clear water, turning it pink and sliding down to the sloping drain.

The drip drip drip of the faucet filling the empty space as she shook and shivered.

A voice sounded from the room over, a muffled murmuring of noise. She closed her eyes and laid her head against the cracking, tiled walls. She felt the overwhelming pull of the darkness in her mind and welcomed it with open arms, finally drifting off into a pain dulled slumber. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last...