The guilt dug its way deep inside his body. It was heavy and fluid, sinking into his stomach, eating through any other organs in its way making Lev feel sick. He slumped down around the corner of a doorway, sitting tucked against the wall, his head low, knees up to his chest.

The lights in the house were off and to any by passers it would appear as though no one was home.

Lev took a deep breath but it caught in his throat and he coughed, bringing his hands to his mouth to silence himself, the smell of the dried blood on them only made him feel further sick. His head reappeared around the corner of the doorway, making sure no one was there. He had left his scissors in the kitchen, having instinctively dropped them after attacking the man, and desperately wanted them back.

He slowly pushed himself back up to his feet, his body giving way beneath him. He grabbed the door handle to steady himself and scrambled over to the small craft table in the corner of his room. There were a few stray pieces of paper, some crayons, a glue stick and a pencil case scattered over the table. He grabbed the pencil case with trembling hands and tried to unzip it as silently as possible without moving too slow. He dug through and found a pencil sharpener, picking up a pencil from the table and sharpening both edges. Sure, it wasn’t a pair of scissors but it wasn’t nothing.

It looked more threatening in his small hands than it would to you.

(Uh, this is something a wrote in the middle of the night so it may not make sense because my brain was half asleep and I can’t be bothered to proof read it, also it won’t make too much sense without context anyway. Also first impressions of my oc Lev ^^)