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She drags the knife across her pale wiry wrist and gasps as it slowly nips into her skin. She watches her perfect porcelain skin bleed red as her life's blood weeps upon the ground. Her little one, wails in the background at the top of her lungs, but the Mother, so newly fascinated by the sight of her own blood, does not look up. She coughs, a wracking, body-shaking cough causing the knife to slip from her grasp as it clatters noisily to the floor. She scratches at the newly inflicted wound, wincing in surprise as the pain engulfs her. She slumps to the floor and let's the darkness overcome her.