I am at my desk working on my thesis. It is very late at night. I am perplexed to see that I have an E-mail. I pull it up and it says "Feel Itchy". I closed it. Probably some moron trying to prank me. I crawl into bed. Was this how life was now. Lonely, desperate for change. Rejection. I want something more to life. I wake up in the morning to find that my fingernails were red. Strange. How would they be red? I washed the red stuff off my hands. I get dressed and head to my school. I finally get to school. I need to go to the bathroom I realize. I run for the bathroom. I make it there just in time. I start washing my hands when I get an irritating itchy spot on my head. I scratch. I look at my fingernails because I can feel something come off. It was gross looking. I vomit into the sink. I run to class. I make it through the first half of the day. In 5th hour, I feel sick again. I am excused to go to the bathroom once more. I make it halfway there when I scratch my head again. Yet again, I get this junk in my nails. A guy that was walking past stared at me in horror. He runs down the hall toward the office. I slump down the wall. What was up with today? I feel something warm pour onto my head. I look up to see blood dripping down the wall! I scream. I then realize what the junk in my nails was. I feel the back of my head. It feels like a tomato. I had been scratching off my own flesh. The world grows white. I am left with the image of people surrounding me as the everlasting stain on my eyes.
Story and title by Me Sorry to those I promised that would be in my next story. My next story will be called three chairs.