Sewing Pins

12:01 am

Nail. Hammer. Cold. Blood. Pain. I can feel every nerve, every cell in my hand being penetrated by the rusty nail. No tears fall. All at once. From no sensation to this burning. I want to scream out, cry, and un-nail my hand from the table. But here I stay. Stuck.

I'm here staring at my hand, watching my blood cover the table. How is this happening? Why would I do this? I would never do this. So much blood. I'm going to die If i can't stop it. But how? Drawer.

I open my desk drawer to my right. What happened to all my stuff? It's empty. No. There is something in it. A box. What makes this box so interesting. Maybe it has bandages. I try and grab it. I move. I never felt or saw my hand move towards the box but it did. Now I'm here again. Stuck.

This box is tormenting me. My blood pools around it. I must open it. Please open it. I don't know whats inside. Must be important. Please help me. I'm going to die. This pain. I can't handle the pain. Won't it go away. It's as if all my feelings came back just in my left hand and multiplied by ten. Please box. I'm begging. Open.

Finally. A look inside. No. Nothing to help. Just sewing pins. Why? Am I supposed to stitch it up? No. I would need a needle and thread. Pins, just pins. Stuck.

Here I am. Sitting, alone, unable to do anything. The pain is overwhelming. Something please distract me from this pain. Anything. The pins must be for something. What if they're evil like the nail and hammer? They cant be. They're just there. Stuck, like me. Pin.

I feel. Again like the wood. But something small. Cold and thin. I can see a pin in my right hand. But how? I can't remember my actions but I know they are my own. What am I doing with it? Will It ease the pain of the nail? No. Pain.

Searing pain. Worse than the nail. A distraction? Yes. Why can't I stop myself. This pin, slowly making its way under my pointer fingers nail. One.

Again. For the middle finger. Slowly. I can't scream. I can't even flinch. I have never felt this before. Two.

Why must I continue? The nail is nothing compared to these. The slow insertion of this pin just beneath my fingernail deep into my finger. Three.

Will it end? My ring finger. If I could bend my fingers. The pin would rip the skin on top of my finger down the middle. Four.

Hopefully just this hand. Blood. Oh god there's so much more blood. I see the metal through my layers of skin. I watch what I'm feeling. The reaching, the tearing this pain I can almost hear the pin making its way through the length of my finger. Five.

12:02 am