The darkness kept its mind in its warm embrace. Why did the shadows always make him feel more at home then the light? That damning light. It was there no matter how hard he tried to escape it. Never ending shadows. Never ending light. A vicious circle from whence he had no escape. His escape had been Shawna. She had been his light within the shadows. His shadows within the light. She always made him feel alive when everyone else made him feel dead. He couldn't tell her though yet had a slight feeling she would understand but didn't want to risk it. His mind floating in the welcoming darkness. Slipping deeper into the blood loss induced sleep.<br/><br/>Then he heard great grandma Jenny. What was she doing here.<span style="font-style: italic">You need to wake up... Your friend is back. Time to wake up Marko...</span>The sound of knocking followed those words. His grandmothers image and words vanishing. He groaned a bit. The wounds still bleeding a bit. His friend was here? Did Grandma Jenny mean Shawna? Shawna wasn't here. She couldn't be. She left. She said she was never coming back. That they were through. It was why his life held no meaning. Yet...he had been right. He glanced a bit weakly to the arm that was still bleeding a bit. He had been right. Death denied him once again. He picked up the knife and ran it under the now ice cold water. Cleaning it. He then closed it. Putting it in his pocket.<br/><br/>Blood trickling down his arm. He began to ackwardly wrap up to his elbow in gauze wrap. He wrapped it over and over again then tied it off with his teeths help. He pulled his sleeve down but about three inches still showed. The bandaging begin to slowly become tainted with red. He held it at his side carefully. Maybe she wouldn't notice. Maybe she wouldn't ask. Why was she back? She said she was never coming back. That she was gone for good. He weakly made his way over to the door. Maybe...she was just here to say she left something. It was possible. Would be his luck after all.<br/><br/>He opened the door with the hand he didn't usually use for that. He would look paler than normal due to blood loss. "You're back home. Why didn't you just come in?" He said. His life even more lacking than it tended to be. "Welcome home Shawna...did you forget something?" He asked. Standing aside and made his way slowly out of the way. He turned and looked at her. "I still love you...even if its not mutual anymore." he said. He was having a hard time masking the fact his depression was worse than it used to be. He was empty without her. A life and light that wouldn't snuff out because death shunned him. Life hated him. His arm moved to hide the other from view. Instinctively of course. His cutting started young. When he realized...nobody would ever understand.<br/><br/>He had stopped trying to tell his mother because she'd freak out and call him crazy. Tell him he was insane. Maybe he was. His gaze took her in. "You need to rest. You look really tired. The rooms still the way you left it." He said. Letting her in and shutting the door. Maybe if he was lucky she wouldn't notice he was doing stuff opposite handed. "I missed you..." he said softly. Hoping she wouldn't hear. He probably sounded pathetic but he couldn't help it. He had told her numerous occasions she was the sunlight to his moonlight darkness. That she was his world. He felt nothing but pain, depression and worse...dead...without her. He wouldn't make her be with him. He locked the front door before going and standing by the wall leading into the den area.<br/><br/>Looking at her. "I'm happy your here...even if it may just be fleeting." A small smile crossed his lips. For her...for her he could smile. She had always been something to smile about. For just this small moment in time...he felt he could smile. So he did. He leaned against the doorframe. His body barely kept from sinking to the floor. He'd lost a lot of blood. The cooling warmth of the cuts that still bled quite noticable in his mind. There was lines of red staining the banding. All the way up into the base of his palm. The end away from the fingertips. He closed his hand instinctively to hide the building red. It was at a place where flesh moved and bent so it would take longer to heal. They stung. Good. It reminded him he was alive. Not good. He had thought maybe it would be different. Yet he knew he had already known it wouldn't.<br/><br/>"You here long Shawna?" He asked. His tone hopeful though he tried to keep it from being noticable. He was unnoticably to him starting to sink. He had lost a lot of blood. A lot of his blood had washed itself down the tub drain. In fact...he was feeling very light headed. He wanted to drift off to sleep again. He didn't even realize it as he began to sink down. His legs falling out to thesides in a W as his body sank to rest on the ground. He didn't even realize it. He was starting to drift off again.<span style="font-style: italic">Wake up sweetie...you need to stay awake.</span>His grandmother's voice sounded nearby. He opened his eyes and tried to focus but it was hard. "I'm glad your back...I love you." He said again. If he could sink down further he would. His body slumped a bit so he was laying back against the doorframe. He just felt so tired. It would pass. He hadn't stopped the bleeding like he usually did. Just let it flow free. No reason not to.<br/><br/>Just let it flow free...and still...death shunned him. Refused to take him into is cold yet warm embrace. His eyes were starting to close as his head started hanging a bit. "Welcome home..." He said. The voice so very tired. The bandaging stained red in numerous places because of his blood.