She stopped running right under the light and looked down at her bare feet. They were so bloody. So very bloody. She couldn’t tell which drop of blood came from running hard and which droplet came from her self-mutilation. If only blood could let you know which pain caused it to flow forth. But did it even matter why it flowed since blood must have blood. There was no escape from what she had done. And her bright red blood just meant that there was more to come.
She stared at the lights for a few more seconds. The trees were bare just like her heart. She sighed, inhaled, and started up running again. She ran inside the house and saw the blood trail behind her. She was toxic to herself and needed to erase it all.