The Knife in my Bathroom
The Knife in my Bathroom stories
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I have a knife in my bathroom that sits in the basket on my toilet
By TeamShadowWind https://www.reddit.com/r/...

The Knife in my Bathroom

by TeamShadowWind

I have a knife in my bathroom

that sits in the basket on my toilet

next to the spare toilet paper rolls.

It sits quietly, watching me.

I know and it knows why I put it there

but I can’t bring myself to look at it often.

Sitting on the porcelain throne feels

like the electric chair.

Sometimes I’ll leave the door open

on accident

and I’ll see it.

Glinting.

I try to keep the door closed.

 

Sometimes I’ll have a bad day.

Not wanting to live

but fearing death.

I’ll stare back with bleary eyes and whisper

“Not today, buddy.”

It gets hard to sleep,

knowing it’s there.

Glinting.

Waiting.

Sometimes I’ll have a good day.

I’ll give it a halfhearted smile and whisper,

“Not today, buddy.”

I sleep easier on good days.

 

It knows

I am beyond help.

Beyond words.

It stares blankly at me,

Expectantly.

Not maliciously,

but curiously.

It bears no ill will.

I fear it anyway.

I want it gone, but it’s all up to me.

I whisper, strained,

fearfully.

“Not today, buddy.”

 

It sits in the basket,

the central fear in my life.

It can’t do anything; only *I* can wield it.

So am I afraid of myself?

I can’t point fingers anymore-

it’s all me, me, me.

I’m responsible for anything that happens.

It knows that.

It glints and stares and judges and waits.

I want it to stop.

Or do I want it to *end?*

*Decide,* it hisses.

“Not today, buddy,” I whimper.

 

***

The world decides to be cruel today

from when I wake up.

Work goes worse than usual-

I’m constantly chastised and teased

by those who don’t understand

and refuse to.

I leave early.

I hear them everywhere-

people judging this sad, pathetic husk

that is me.

I get home, and approach the bathroom.

The knife glints in pleasure as it is finally made of use, as I weakly choke,

“Hey, buddy. Today’s the day.”

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