Onychophagia

The nail slightly bent over, enough to rip off the layers of skin and flesh. She reached down with her teeth and tore it off, allowing a trickle of blood to be released. Her tongue rolled over her fingers, deciding which victim it would bite next. The nails had no protest, her suicidal nails hoping the saliva would wash over them, letting them bleed. Letting the red slowly pour over the side of the finger and hit the floor. The pointer finger was sitting there, dreaming of better things. The teeth chomped down on his neighbor, the middle finger. The pointer finger sat in silence, knowing the finger hated those who whined and begged. He heard a booming voice in a jumble of words, ordering their master to stop. Their master replied, in a high-pitched voice, and stopped for that second. A minute later, the teeth bared their fangs again. This time the pinkie got its wish for the day, until it grew back tomorrow. The pointer finger was near the point of doing what they always did when they were impatient. It started to bend, back and forth, back and forth. The mouth noticed, then started to slowly edge towards the pointer finger. It got closer, 5 inches, 3 inches, 1 inch…
It suddenly withdrew, thinking better than to bite down on a jumpy finger. It could damage. Though the object was to kill, the teeth couldn’t produce harm more than a slight bruise or a little blood to the nail. If the finger was jumpy, the mouth might accidentally chomp down on more than just the cuticles.
The master’s master boomed again, telling the master to stop. The master argued back before the master’s master told the master to sit on her hand. The master complained, but flattened the hands beneath her.
The pointer finger, crumpled next to the dead middle finger, started crying. It was the chance of a lifetime – a day – to die, to get rid of all the pain. And now they’d have to wait until the sun rose again. Why must a fingernail have such depression, doomed to forever follow orders? Why must they have a master and his subjects?
Why must they live?1

Author notes

About nail biters and what they do to thier nails. I made the nails suicidal, since it sounded fun in my head. I don't do lots of short stories, so I hope it's okay.

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Comments


  • Melancholic Smile
    September 22
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    I like this! It was an interesting take on the bad habit so many of us have! I've never read anything quite like it - you wrote it like nails have feelings, hey maybe they do, I must remember to ask mine next time I'm about to nibble! Joke... Seriously though this is a good short write, well done and thanks for entering


  • angelaononchan
    September 12

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    Nail biters, I have never seen anything about nail biting before. Good idea. When I first saw it, I thought it was weird because I thought you meant nails and hammers. huh? blood? You mean she bit it so deeply that it bleeded. Why was he/she having a dead fingernail? Oh, I know now. no need to explain. I am a bit of a nail biter *embarresed* but I never did that before. Keep up because I like short stories.


  • Six-Feet-Underwater
    September 10

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    It's different, but very interesting. I've never read anything quite like it. I think it was a clever idea and you have nice personification inthe nails. keep it up!