Wendy Lane: Wakeup Call

Before she knew it, she grabbed the knife and saw a pair of sad bleary hazel eyes, bewitching and beautiful otherwise, on a freckled pale face looking back at her. She looked terrible. The knife, too, seemed to tell her off, pushing her into a deeper slump, ‘You don’t belong up there girl. I’ll show you your place, down below the cuts and bloods.’