The San Franciscan bridge was overflowing as usual.  Peter walked on the edge of the bridge, knives piercing his frangible legs and arms.  Inside you could see his bones distorted; shattering with every step he took.  Finally Peter stopped; achingly he looked down below to his death before he committed it.

"Simon says don't jump," a man from afar yelled.  Just as Peter was about to jump, he looked over at the voice of a savior.  his balance unsteady, Peter's feet began to shudder as he slipped.  The horrendous scream petrified the San Franciscan crowd horrifically watching above.  Just as Peter hit the indurate water, gruesome shrills hurled through the sky.  Forceful waves embe dded Peter as he seemed to decay; the sea devoured his body.

The man ran to the bridge's edge and apprehensively looked over to see the deep blue sea turn cherry red.  The warmth of Peter's blood rose as the physical blood enveloped with the water.