It was the pointy ended steak knife resting on my plate that inspired my plan.  I waited until everyone was immersed in their meals and discussion, then quickly contemplated how I would execute this newly formulated scheme.  It was a terrible idea, manipulative and dangerous even.  Badly, was the only way this could end.

My pulse beat raggedly as I imagined the amount of pain, as well as blood loss that would occur if I were wrong.  The mental vision churned my stomach.  I was disappointed in myself at the thought of resorting to this as a solution-appalled that I was capable of conjuring such a thing.

My breath came faster and my palms grew sweaty.  I inconspicuously changed the grip on the knife.  My fingers, one at a time committing to the act as they slowly wrapped completely and solidly around the blades handle.  I willed my right hand to the table between me and Alex and held my breath as I quickly, without further delay or thought, raised the knife and slammed it straight down into my hand.  Reflex forced a light wince from my throat just before impact.

I was doubtless that I had severed a nerve, being that I felt no pain.  But as the adrenaline wore down, and the vision before me fully registered, I had my proof.  Alex slowly and purposefully pulled the knife from his own flesh.  His eyes were wide with surprise, that soon narrowed furiously.  But, no indication of pain.  Unholy dread consumed every face seated at the table-mine included.  His hand had so quickly replaced mine that the exchange went entirely without notice.  I cast my eyes back to the wound I had inflicted, and drew a staggered breath as it sealed itself whole.  There wasn’t as much as a hint of blood on his hand or the knife.

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