Red Water

He writhed in pain as the hot water hit him, stinging his skin and his scars. The blood flowed off him, going in big puddles down the drain hole as he clung to his side and cried. The tears along with the water washed over his face, somewhat reliving except for the stinging across his body from the fresh scars Cameron had laid. It hurt. The water would do him good, clean away the dirt, but right now, it continued to sting. He adjusted the taps, trying to lessen the pressure and fit it into a more comfortable temperature, but the difference it would make was subtle. He ran his fingers over the scars to see if the blood was still streaming, and for most of them, it wasn't. A few more bandages would help. Then he turned off the taps. He stood there shivering for a moment, before turning them on again. Just a little longer. Maybe the pain would stop.

[162 words]

Bad Reflection

Terrier stared at himself in cracked mirror. He studied his messy, overgrown brown hair, and the brown eyes that hid beneath. He noticed the dark circles under those lonely eyes, and how shallow his cheeks looked. His lips were scarred from scratching at them so much. And the chain that he wore around his neck was not the shark's tooth his grandfather had given him which he'd worn constantly. It was the dog collar. He didn't know how long he stared at that reflection, tears welling in his eyes that wouldn't fall. Did he really look that different? He thought back to that afternoon, when he'd bee wandering the streets alone on an errand. He'd accidentally run into someone, admittedly not looking exactly where he was going.

The girl was only his age, a pretty blonde. He was sure he'd recognised her from somewhere. School, maybe. School seemed like such a long time ago now. He was so sure he knew her if not from there, but somewhere. He couldn't put the finger on the name, but he knew he'd seen her around. And yet, she hadn't recognised him...

"Oh, sorry," he had muttered, looking up to see eye to eye with the girl he had run into. She had given him a disgusted look before turning back around.

"Hey!" he threw in after her. Regretfully she looked back.

"What?"

"Do I know you?" he had asked.

"Sorry kid, you must be mistaking me from someone else. I don't hang out with thugs like you."

A thug. She had called him a thug, and all he'd done was apologised. He refocused on the reflecton he saw in the mirror, of an ugly teenage boy. Someone who was dirty and cruel, cold and depressed. Suicidal. Unable to break free of such thoughts. Unable to stop doing the wrong deeds of others. When would it end? He leaned over the basin, tears finally begining to fall. That was the other thing. He was so damn weak. He threw off his t-shirt and got in the shower, before turning on the hot tap full blast. He refused to let out the scream that was stuck in his throat as the hot water stung his thin layer of skin.

[375 words]