My trainers were the whitest of white. Blobs of blood plummeted onto the milky leather, instantly at odds with their crisp colour.
My foot had slipped along the metal pole where the paint was cracked and flakes of rusty brown were starting to take ownership. On the way down my two front teeth met the metal bar, grinding between the dirty surface and my gums as the roots bent, the enamel crumbled and they tumbled to the floor.
I ran home, blood spurting from my mouth and down to my white trainers, a gap in my gums that rendered the remaining fangs vampire like in their protrusion against the void. For the first time, my childlike vision of immortality was shattered.
This post is in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt “At what age did you realize you were not immortal? How did you react to that discovery?” http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/finite-creatures/