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=   F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.   =
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                begging for love in a suicide threat
                ------------------------------------

		he watched her sleep. she looked so quiet,
		so peaceful. he examined her throat,
		watching the soft pulse of blood just
		beneath her skin. her skin was pale, and
		a thin sheet of sweat slicked her skin.
		he held his hand over her mouth, just
		a few centimeters from her lips. he
		sighed with relief when her warm breath
		reached his palm.

		she was going to live.

		he stared apprehensively at the empty
		bottle on the floor. he loved his sister
		dearly, but he did not know how much more
		of this he could take. he looked away from
		the bottle and watched the breeze push the
		curtains away from the window. he closed
		his eyes tightly and wondered what else
		she had done.

		might as well find out.

		he had noticed earlier that blood had
		seeped through her white sheets. the phone
		that she had used to call him with was
		beneath them, the cord snaking
		menacingly from the wall jack. he took
		a deep breath and lifted the sheet.

		his throat closed.

		both of her arms had been sliced
		beyond recognition. there was more gash
		than skin visible, and a small pool of
		blood had collected beneath each arm.
		the razor had been cast aside. she was so
		beautiful.. how could she destroy
		herself this way?

		damn her.

		he rose from the bed and retrieved the
		first aid kit from the bathroom. he
		gently bandaged her wounds and checked
		her pulse. it looked like everything was
		going to be ok. he put fresh sheets over
		her and sat in the chair next to her bed.

		her journal was on the table next to him.

		guiltily he took the journal from the
		table and began to read. perhaps he
		could help her if he knew what she was
		thinking. suddenly he was absorbed in
		the details of his sister's life. he
		read about everything that had ever
		happened to her. he knew her innermost
		thoughts, and they made him feel dirty.

		hours passed.

		he wandered the house aimlessly as dawn
		broke. he never knew. he had no idea what
		had happened to his sister, and he never
		protected her. it was his fault. he would
		never forgive himself. no wonder she
		embraced death so freely.

		elaine woke, wincing at the stiffness of 
		the caked blood on her arms.

		she rose. the house was silent. she looked
		around her room. something was different.

		(her journal. he had read her journal.)

		she ran from the room, hurriedly searching
		each room in the house. she finally found
		him in her den.

		"jake? jake, are you awake?" 

		silence.

		she walked around one side of the chair
		and screamed. half of his head was missing,
		the rest of it splattered wildly on the
		desk. the gun glinted peacefully in the
		morning light, lightly dusted with
		bits of brain and skull.

		she was free.


		Palpable Obscure

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