Hey guys, this is the prologue for a new story I'm writing that I'm hoping like hell I'll be able to stick to. Anyway, at the moment I'm caught between two titles: Cutter's Lullaby and The Lullaby Child... If you guys like one better than the other let me know, I like getting people's opinion on things like that but for now, here's the prologue, enjoy.

PROLOGUE FOR UNTITLED STORY:
I looked up sleepily as someone gently touched my forehead, calling my name. An elegant woman stood beside my bed, smiling down at me reassuringly before she sat down, stroking my hair soothingly.

“Who are you?” I whispered weakly, wanting to know if this woman was here to help me. I wasn’t sure what provoked this thought and I didn’t intend to figure it out.

“That doesn’t matter, little one, all that matters is that you relax. I’m not going to hurt you,” she murmured calmly, smiling softly.

She gently placed a hand on my forehead before she closed her eyes and began to speak in a quiet, hauntingly beautiful voice.

”Sleep little baby, soon you’ll be dead
Swallowed by darkness, covered in red
Everyone hates you; they’ll all let you bleed
This brand new knife is all you will need

Sleep little baby, broken and scarred
For you, life has never been this hard
No one else will ever tell
‘Til you little baby, come straight back to hell

Promise you’ll hold that knife so tight
That in the dark you’ll bleed every night
Promise me little one, just say I do
And your fate will begin, right on cue.”

Her eyes opened again and I felt something burn within me, an agony I’d never felt before. I began to convulse on the bed as pain ripped through my chest and stomach. My eyes began to sting as if someone had thrown salt in them and I rubbed at them frantically, screaming to make the pain stop but the woman didn’t help me, she merely watched.

Eventually the pain stopped and I lay panting heavily on my bed, a thin layer of sweat covering my body. The woman smiled down at me before she leaned down and kissed my forehead gently, helping me relax somehow before she slipped something cold into my hand as she pulled away.

I looked down to see a silver penknife in my hand. I carefully sat up, not sure if my body would erupt in a fury of pain again before I pulled the blade out. I looked up at the woman again, frowning in confusion.

“Why?” I murmured, not understanding what she’d said or why she’d given me the knife.

She smiled softly before whispering, “Reason in your life, little one, which is what this knife now is for you. Nothing else matters aside from this beautiful knife, you will figure out what to do with it but first you must promise me. All you have to say to me is “I do”, just as if you were getting married.”

“I don’t understand why I have to do this...” I whispered, looking up at her in confusion.

“Just promise me this little one and everything will be alright, everything will become clear.” She smiled at me reassuringly, squeezing my leg gently through the sheets.

I looked into her eyes before I slowly nodded. “I do ...” I whispered before she stood and left again.

As soon as she left, I clambered out of bed, the knife dropping to the floor with a solid “thump” before I ran into the bathroom next door to my parents’ room. I flipped on the light and looked in the mirror, struggling to contain a scream of surprise as I saw the colour of my ... magenta eyes. I stared in myself in horror, fiddling with my black hair and running my hands over my body to make sure I was still there before I ran back into my room and looked for traces of the woman. It couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t!

In a split second, I was overcome by an extreme sense of calm. I smiled softly before I looked down at the knife on the floor, smiling softly. I leaned down and picked it up before I sat down, leaning back against my bed.

I’d contemplated doing this once before but now... Now cutting myself seemed like an amazing idea, that I just hadn’t realized it before. I’d read about it in the newspaper and teenage magazines but this thing, this “deliberate self-harm” had never seemed justifiable before; it had always seemed wrong and inhuman.

As I pressed the blade into my wrist and dragged it horizontally across my flesh, a euphoric feeling filled me. I closed my eyes in bliss as I felt warm blood slowly seep from the fresh wound, droplets forming across the cut before slipping down the sides of my arm. I knew it would stain the carpet and would serve as a reminder forever but it felt so good...

I continued to cut horizontal lines across my arm until it was too covered in blood for me to continue ... so I started on the other arm. Blood now soaked my pyjamas and covered the carpet around me. I felt dirty and inhuman, like the woman had taken away my soul but I didn’t care, this new pain I was feeling was amazing and I didn’t want it to stop.

Then I screamed.

So what did you guys think?