WHO YOU ARE

WARNING: MENTION OF SELF HARM.

NARRATOR'S POV

                        As the door cracked open, Alexander was greeted by hysterical sobbing. In the middle of the living room. Rianne was laying on the floor, curled up in a tiny ball. Like a fetus inside a mother's womb. Sweat, tears, and blood mixing together on the floor where she lay, the knife she used was beside her as blood covered its metallic material.

"Rianne!" Alexander runs towards her, quickly picking up the girl's broken form. Gently, the blonde cradled Rianne, holding her delicate frame ever so kindly.

"Look at me Rianne," he asked the girl, worried that he was too late. But as he felt her heartbeat, he finally relaxed. "Oh thank god" he mumbled to himself. Gentle fingers gently brushing the stray hairs that were sticking in her face.

"Alex…" she breathed out weakly, her half-lidded eyes dull and hazy. While her form drawing closer into his arm as she seeks comfort and warmth.