Her soul curled at the foot of her bed, foetal position. Not that souls in pain curled in any other manner. She tried to cry herself out of the grime, but it heaped, fast, like the bricks from a Tetris game in which the player was losing. This pain to her soul came from her body, the depth between her legs continually spewed water that drowned her virtues.
It was the cousin from before, she had begged him. The apprentice in her father’s workshop, she had forced him. She had twisted in school till her teacher succumbed. The office colleague today, he had looked at her in disdain when they were done. She had lost count.
The throb never stopped. Her soul decided to cleanse itself tonight. She would not carry this burden into tomorrow.
It was fifteen minutes to midnight, she caressed the cocktail of capsules as her soul willed her body to gulp to its end.
She changed her mind and shoved her fingers between her legs, stroking, caressing, arousing the very source of her ache. Then she uncurled and found herself a knife. She stroked some more, stroked, till she felt it right enough to strike.
She curled back into the darkness, the blood oozed.
It had been twelve minutes to midnight, when her soul willed her body, to slice away the part that caused it great guilt and ache.
Afternotes: This was entered for a #flashfictionfriday contest on twitter last week. The theme was “It happened at 11.48pm”. And yes, we got the prize!