Triggers: Death and gore.

Prompt: He'd looked ready to throw at least one of them over the bridge; but she'd never have guessed it would have been himself.

~

He'd looked ready to throw at least one of them over the bridge; but she'd never have guessed it would have been himself.

Her heart practically stopped beating, just like she knew his would be once he hit the bottom. Once he hit the bottom, like he already had - metaphorically. Why hadn't he told her? She was always there to help him, no matter what the problem.

Her lungs collapsed, her breathing growing short and shaky. Running to the ledge, fumbling over her own feet, she looked down. He was almost at the bottom. Three... two... one...

The world stopped. She looked down at the boy, stuck nothing but centimeters from the ground. In her head, she pictures the world coming back into reality, seeing his head split open, blood seeping from his cracked skull. A picture perfect scarlet painting engraved into rocks, along with fragments of bone scattered around. The painting almost looked like a tree; blood and bones creating the leaves, and the boy as the limp, weakened tree branch. He almost looked like a tree she had found in the city park; practically dead from all the trash and pollution, but just strong enough for a small child to climb onto a branch and pull of his shoes, throwing them at his eager friends under him to defend his new fort.

Trash and pollution, she thought. Pollution of the mind. Pollution of her mind.

She imagined the boy in a non-artistic way, imagining his blood and bones splattered in random forms, creating a wicked mess of nothing. She imagined his intestines spilling out of his stomach, the new gash reaching from his neck to his lower stomach creating leeway for the animal-like organs to escape their cramped cages. She imagined devouring into his corpse, leaving nothing but scraps of meat and bones for animals to enjoy.

"Let him."

Suddenly, she jumped back into reality, seeing her dearest friend hitting the wet rocks beneath. Screams were heard as innocent civilians looked down at themes of blood and guts. She smiled at the chaos, making her way down the flight of stairs to greet her next meal.