Trigger Warning

I stared in horror at it. The thorn in my hand. Stretching out, glinting, evil steel. Red dripped off the blade of my sword. My hand went slack and it fell onto the body. I snatched it away, to late. The tip had bit her cheek, fresh blood again welling. I cried out in horror, fear, frustration. Hate, for myself. I killed her… i was a monster… wasnt this what i wanted? I didn't want it to feel like this. I pulled away the sword by the blade, ignoring the blood welling in my palms, mixing with the blood already there. The thorn cut me deep. Killed me. Yet i still moved, a zombie. A hollowed shadow of myself. I followed the blade to the hilt, staring at the ruby on the hilt, carved in the shape of a rose. The rose above the thorn. It was red. It was blood. It was beatiful. It was a rose of blood. It rose from blood. I wouldnt accept it! I tore at it, trying to yank it from the sword, throw it in the blood, throw it down where it belonged. I pulled and pulled. No give. I bit at it, angry. I felt tears pour down my cheeks as i tasted the blood it was bathed in. it tasted sweet, slightly. I hated that! I released it from my teeth and struggled to scrape it off my toungue, to no avail. Bitterness rose up, overtaking it. Bitter hate, sorrow, regret, fear. Bitter, salty tears dripped into my open, wailing mouth. I took up the rose sword, the thorn, and it's bloody rose, and hurled it as far from me as i could. I turned to the cliff behind me and leapt.