Hala Hala

⛧ 8 ⛧

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH

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The young woman got shocked as she gazed at the watch on her wrist. It was late, she spend almost two hours reading that diary and imagining the story it told her.

She closed the book and stood up, stretching and yawning. Sometimes she just wished to take a bath in peace and forget about everything, even her son. Don't get her wrong, she really loves her baby but taking care of him was hard.

She was pretty young herself, only 28 years old. She got pregnant with 23? 24? by an accident. The woman didn't know who the father of her baby is nor did she care. Luckily her family loved her son as much as she did and supported her the moment she decided to keep the young live growing in her.

She placed the book in her pocket and made her way down to cook something healthy for her boy so that she could bring him to bed early. He's got school tomorrow so it wouldn't be a big deal and alone in her bed would be enough time to continue reading the diary, no?

                  ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

October 1827

The perfect crime

It wasn't with knives
My heart he tore,
When he brought me to death's door.

It wasn't his hands
That had me slain -
But he had killed me
All the same.

Cold and Callous
With no remorse,
He turned me to
A walking corpse.

And I am imprisoned
In this pain
While he without
The slightest blame -
Free to do it
Over again.

- Lang Leav -

This poem came to my mind as you gave me a break...at night...where the moon was listening to my cries and my painfilled begging.

It describes this perfectly, doesn't it?

You hurt me over and over again and I can't do anything about it. I should be lucky that you didn't break my bones. Yet. Is there a spot on my body without pain? Without cuts? Probably not.

I can't do this anymore, you know? This book is something I treasure and the only thing left in this cell that is giving me a smile although it's not a happy one. No, it is a tired one. Because I read about our first meeting over and over again and yet here I am, asking myself what would have happened if I never ever came to this hell.

Would I have been safe from a demon like you?

Hongjoong

He carefully caressed the pages of the book he was holding, a pained smile on his face.

Seonghwa left already, leaving the brunette in pain and fear, with dark promises and sweet whispers.

Hongjoong sighed and carefully leaned his back against the cold wall made of stone. He couldn't stand, his legs hurting way too much from the strength Seonghwa used to keep them parted and he grimaced as he felt a sticky liquid leaking out of him, soaking his pants.

He lost count of how many times Seonghwa already raped him. He just wanted to close his eyes and leave this place, even if it was just for a few hours.

But he couldn't.

The pain kept him awake, shivering as it got colder at night and his mind wandering off to a specific person.

Seonghwa.

Oh, how Hongjoong wished he never ever met him, or that he could forget him, at least for a few moments. But he just couldn't.

The way the raven haired spoke, his gentle touches after he hurt the younger, or his dark velvety voice when he talked to the brunette about how much fun they would have. Even the times he just stays and cuddles the other boy, giving him soft kisses on his hair or forehead and whispering sweet nothings into his hair.

Hongjoong couldn't forget him.

But he was tired.

Tired of the pain, of the constant fear, of the loud screams leaving his mouth when Seonghwa pleasures himself using the younger's body, leaving the younger's throat raw. Tired of waking up just to see that he was in the same hell as yesterday. Tired of waiting for Seonghwa to torture him over and over again.

He just...couldn't. He didn't have the strength left to carry on.

He just wanted it to end, he wanted peace.

And so he stood up, a loud gasp leaving his mouth as he needed to lean against the wall because his legs just won't stop shaking. He slowly walked over to the only window in the room, taking the sheet of his small mattress with him.

He felt calm as he used a stool to reach for the bars, tying the sheets around it.

The linen felt soft around his neck, giving him confidence.

Hongjoong turned around one time, just calmly looking at the many stars sparkling in the sky and the moon guarding the place like it always did, no matter the time.

A small smile showed on his face as he kicked the stool away, finally being able to give in to the darkness that came to lead him away.