Would she even bleed?

The taunting knife lying before her was swiftly in her hand, her fingers curled around the metal. Would anything come out at all?

Would she disappear?

The blade dragged along her forearm with precision. She gasped at the blinding pain, blinking away the tears making tracks down her face. The red, red, red oozing liquid swimming on her arm was alarming and horrific and sickening.

Dawn scrambled from her crumpled position on the kitchen tiles. Stumbling and unfocused, she was suddenly in the hallway and the question was pouring from her lips, "Is this blood?"