Alone
By mish
- 325 reads
ALONE
Alone in the dark; crushed by fear. Every day a waking nightmare; every
night a sleepless hell. The noise behind me is a bright-eyed monster,
claws already slashing my heels. In front a movement, the flash of a
barrel pointed towards my doom. When I sleep I see the hell-inferno in
her eyes: malice, fierce and sharp like a butchers knife, stained with
the blood of millions. I pick up the bottle. Four a day, to treat an
infection I've had. I feel the pills slip into my hand, perfect. My
shaking hand reaches for the bottle I've kept for the special occasion
that never came, finest malt. The warm whisky flows down my parched,
cold throat like the last taste of summer. I'm so tired, but my body is
seized with convulsions, I vomit violently on the floor, a searing pain
tears through my mind. At last, I rest, my body wrecked, my mind
fractured.
"It's a nice day," I said, it wasn't but that wasn't really the point
was it. I was talking to my friend, Chrisato, she annoys me like hell,
but we've been friends for so long, so long I can't remember really.
Thing is, she wants us to be more than friends, a lot more than friends
really; all I want is for her to get the message and just be happy with
what we've got, but really I love her too much to say that, love as a
friend though.
"Yea, nice day," she said, "but we should really get going".
At that I was clueless, go where, what had I forgotten? I knew she
would be mad at me for forgetting, but I'm so busy.
"Yes," I said, "let's go, wouldn't want to be late!"
She cocked her head on one side, and gave me the look you might give to
a dog that has just done a trick, but she was not happy, I could tell.
Chris has always had a way of seeing what I'm thinking, even when I
don't say it. Sometimes she sees a little more than is really there,
like once, I said, "Do you want to get married, when you're a little
older?", as in "are you planning to marry someone", and she said, "Yes,
Jan-Lee, but let's not wait, lets get married now!"
You see? Never mind, back to the present, well the past really, but you
know what I mean.
"You've forgotten haven't you?" she said, "you've forgotten and you
promised that you would do this for me".
She looked really hurt, for once, normally she tries to make out that
she's got emotions of steel, but I know that really she's just a sad
person inside a happy one waiting to get out. I went over and put my
arm round her, that was a sure fire way to cheer her up, but too late,
I discovered that she was only faking. She playfully hit me in the
stomach and pinned me to the floor, forcing herself down on me and
looking deep into my eyes. Actually the punch sort of hurt, Chris
doesn't know her own strength. Her soft hair tickled my face; she was
really quite attractive when I really looked at her. Gradually she bent
down, closer to my face, slowly closing her eyes. It was nearly too
late when I realised what she was doing and I squirmed out of the way.
She got up as if stung by a wasp, her face looked sad, for real I
think, a tear slowly ran down her cheek. I moved to hug her, but she
pushed me away, hard.
I didn't realise what I had done to her, but suddenly it sunk in how
much she wanted to be with me, but she was running away. I called her,
really, called out
"Chris! Chrisato! Come back! I'm sorry!"
But it was too late; she had gone round the corner and left me. I had
no hope of catching her, she is much faster than me, but I ran, faster
than I had ever done. Then I caught sight of her running down an alley,
I followed and grabbed her shoulder, she gave a sharp cry and wheeled
round, bringing her hand round with force in a wild slap, it knocked me
off my feet and my head slammed into a wall. As I faded into
unconsciousness, I saw a face scowling angrily at me, not Chris
though.
When I awoke I was roughly bound to the corner of a bed in a small
dingy room. My muscles ached and screamed in protest as I tried to get
up, the bonds bit into my wrists and I had to slump down in defeat. I
was scared. I was terrified. Some psycho had bound me up and was going
to kill me, or worse.
"The face" walked into the room, this time it was attached to a body,
powerfully muscular and wearing a tight, blue, short sleeved t-shirt
and combats. "The face" moved close to me and I was assailed by a
powerful stench of sweat. I recoiled, now completely rigid with fear. I
had never really feared for my life before, not properly. Now I felt so
isolated from the world, trapped in a solitary cell, with no hope of
assistance.
My captor slowly stood up behind me and barked a harsh order to get up
on my knees but I couldn't move at all and I received a vicious kick in
the side. I threw up violently. A rough hand seized me and dragged me
up, whilst at the same time another dealt a painfully blow to my
stomach, knocking the wind completely out of me. I tried to shout out,
but a ferocious hand clamped itself over my mouth and the face of my
attacker pressed itself near to mine. "You're gonna shut up now, and be
real quiet. One more word outta you an I'm gonna kill you, you
understand?" she shouted.
The hand was removed from my mouth and I sat there muted and
desperately trying to think of a way out. Once again the heavy hand
slammed into the side of my head. The woman untied my bonds and while I
was still dazed threw me hard onto the bed. She followed me and hit me
again in the stomach, and again, and again, until I couldn't breathe
and my head was spinning. Then she tossed me against the wall and
started to tear off my clothes, I was too weak to resist. She forced me
backwards and pushed herself close to me, her eyes burned into me,
pitiless chasms swallowing me into the darkness of her soul, and then?
so then?but then I can't talk about it. I can't say what happened, I
can't bring myself to say the word. Every time I think about it I die
in my head, too ashamed even to look at myself?
She bundled me into a car.
Threw me out into the street.
Beaten, sore and alone.
I walked home in the pouring rain.
When I got back I was drenched and weeping. I got back to find Chris
sitting in my lounge, she looked sad, but at the same time she looked
resolved and at peace, as if a great weight had been taken from her
mind. When she saw me she gave a cry and ran towards me. Flinging her
arms around me, she squeezed me really hard and started to weep, but it
hurt. Bruises are painfully real. I pushed her off with a yelp, and
suddenly a look a worried concern came across her face.
"Are you OK, Jan?", she said, the look of concern deepening across her
face, "What happened to you? You disappeared and you come back drenched
with all your clothes all torn. What the hell happened, Jan? Please
tell me, you can trust me, you know."
I looked at her ashen face, and could hardly bring myself to
reply.
"I got? I got?" I faltered and my voice died in my barren throat.
Suddenly I realised what to say to make everything better.
"I got hit by a motor bike Chrisato, but I'm fine, just bruised", I
nearly cried, I couldn't tell her, I wanted to so badly, but I
couldn't.
"I love you, Chrisato," I said, "I couldn't bear the thought of living
without you, please never run off again."
Then it was my turn to hug her, I hugged her really tightly, until she
squealed and tickled me, we fell onto the couch and sat there laughing
for ages, but all the time, there was a slow motion film playing in my
head, over and over again, slowly dismantling my mind. I was laughing,
but through the laughter, tears came welling up behind my eyes. I
couldn't cry though, only laugh.
I looked deep into Chris's eyes and saw far down into her soul, I bent
over her and slowly moved closer to her, my hand caressing her soft
face. I kissed her with sore, dry lips, and then we lay there. We lay
there forever it seemed, lying on a cloud, floating into the blood red
sunset. Still the film played in my mind. I rested there in defiling
terror, screaming through a marred sky, hearing a harsh, desolate laugh
that filled the infinite universe in my head and muted my senses. I
awoke to Chris's gentle hand resting gently on my chest, while she
herself was sleeping peacefully.
After that I would have had the best time of my life ever, but I
didn't. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, every waking moment I
couldn't concentrate because all the time I saw that face leering down
at me, full of malevolence, invading my mind. Every time I had a
private moment there was another person with me, laughing at me. Every
day I tried to tell Chris, but every day it got harder and I grew
further away from her. How could I put it? How could I tell her?
Everyone would have laughed at me, forced to? by a woman. Everyone
would have thought I was weak. I couldn't tell her. She'd hate me. I
carried on somehow, moving around like a ghost, growing paler every
day.
It tore up my mind. I went to bed every night; I couldn't sleep
because I was afraid that "the face" would be there when I woke up.
When exhaustion drove me to sleep she haunted my dreams, stealing
through my mind like a silent and powerful thief, stealing away my
life, smaning, always smaning and staring at me with contempt. I
hated my body, she had defiled me and I felt dirty in a way that I
could never cleanse myself, even though I had showered every day, and
scrubbed my hands raw, it was like the disgusting stench had joined
itself to me and I couldn't get rid of it.
I sat in my room. Crying in a corner, hunched foetus like, rocking
backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards on my heals. My mind was
a tortured writhing mess. The day slipped away and turned into night,
the fear permeated my mind again until I was drunk with terror. The
world was devoid of colour. I hated my attacker, I hated myself. Most
of all I hated Chris, this was all her fault, she ran away and then I
got attacked. It should have happened to her, not to me! She ran off
and then I got hurt because I wanted to follow her. She probably wanted
this to happen, she never loved me, ever, and all she wanted was to
hurt me? I bet it was her idea, she planned it all, she always hated
me. Well now I hate her!
I hate her!
I hate her! Filthy slut, she ruined my life.
I walked downstairs and moved towards the kitchen. I felt in the draw
for a knife, it was sharp, serrated; its wicked blade flashed a
beautiful sunset into my face. I walked into the study, Chris's
favourite room. I moved silently up behind her and moved the knife
round, then with all my force I tore its glistening, serrated edge
across her throat, feeling her warm, crimson blood flowing over my
hands and her last breath, "Why, Jan? You said you loved me."
A wave of panic seized me. I ran up to my cold gloomy room and sat in
the dark. Chris was dead downstairs, her blood pooling on the carpet
and staining her favourite chair. My hands, they were drenched in
blood. I went and sat on my bed.
Alone in the dark; crushed by fear. Every day a waking nightmare; every
night a sleepless hell. The noise behind me is a bright-eyed monster,
claws already slashing my heels, in front a movement, the flash of a
barrel pointed towards my doom. When I sleep I see her soft, grey,
trusting eyes, filled with tears. "I love you Jan", her words are the
knife, stained by fear, caressing her skin. Her soft perfect skin,
ruined forever. I pick up the bottle. Four a day, to treat a cold I've
had. I feel the pills slip into my hand, perfect; my shaking hand
reaches for the bottle I've kept for the special occasion that never
came, finest malt. The warm whisky flows down my parched, cold throat
like the last taste of summer. I'm so tired, but my body is seized with
convulsions, I vomit violently on the floor, a searing pain tears
through my mind. At last, I rest, my body broken.
My mind fractured.
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