I have no mouth, but I need to scream…
I found myself amidst the dark hissing trees, in the middle of a familiar clearing, where I was trapped.
I whirled around madly and the leaves drifted around me, ripping and tearing at the threads that he had knitted through my bloodied lips. The horrid melody that he sang while he worked on me still played inside my head.
If you found yourself inside my grave one day,
With no light of moon nor sun to guide your way,
Would you scream and hope to god that they,
Will hear and send the pain away?
I tore through my flesh, and audible sound that had him laughing as the red dripped down my chin, down my neck, past my heaving chest while I chocked on my own ripping, whimpering scream. My heart was beating in fear and panic. The fear was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was bordering on insanity. I couldn’t take it.
His laughter rang out from behind me. It was dry, and raspy. The sound of it had me spinning around in a hectic circle, searching for its source. And then I saw him, saw that my fear saddened and angered him, his mock laugh was pained as he stood underneath the arched branches of the forest, watching me.
With my lips sewn tight, I screamed, “Mercy! Please!” with my eyes, showing him white all around. He shook his head solemnly, smiled sadly, and approached, stepping into the light of the moon.
Brandon Parker kept his eyes fixed intently on me, as he stalked me back into the trees.
“You killed me, Helena. There will be no mercy, not tonight.” He whispered.
The wind pushed me back, and so did he. It was like an electric shock that came straight from my panicked mind when he lifted me up into his pale arms.
I struggled against him, and against my invisible binds, they cut through my flesh, leaving my skin laced in my own blood. Even then, he just held me tighter to him, and laughed, his pale face was framed by the starlight as he fixed his empty brown eyes upon mine.
It was then that I realized I missed the good days… The days when no one had killed anyone, yet.
…
I remember the heat of the bonfire, that night. The sound of metal pounding through the air, the sound of other kids yelling from the party below us. I remember the smell of alcohol on Brandon’s breath as he grinned down at the scene. His smile was strained as Alex wrapped his arms around me.
They say that small towns breed psychopaths… They were right about small towns.
I could still feel the pain in my mouth. Brandon and his dark brown eyes lingering on my faces. Alex’s voice in my head, his constricting embrace…
Half rotten memories.
Brandon Parker and Alex Parker, the brothers that changed my life forever. Brandon had killed Alex, for the stupidest, lamest reason anyone could have for killing someone. Because he hated us. Or perhaps, because he loved us too much.
He would have gut me like a pig given the chance.
I was laying on the forest floor, flailing, pleading, while he had me straddled, pinning me down with his legs. He held a little pocket knife, and had a smile while I pled, and sobbed out the word, “Please!” over and over while he tore at my clothing.
“It didn’t have to be this way Helena, but this isn’t about you, you know, this is about Alex and all the fucking shit in my life! I snapped, okay? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be me?!” He roared, and hit me, smearing my tears. “STOP CRYING!” My tears seemed to rise something in him. “Helena, can’t you see? I loved you, you stupid, stupid girl.” He said. “It didn’t have to be this way!”
I remember the way that he tore away at the skin on my stomach, just to watch my face, the way of feeling the cold blade trailing up the insides of my thigh.
…
Brandon shoved me back, causing me to trip, as he stood over my motionless body, he knelt down, straddling me, holding me down with his legs. I tried to move, to struggle, to scream… Nothing… It was as if a great weight were pressing down on me. All that moved , were my pleading eyes, looking around, screaming for help, all I could do was breathe in shaky gasps as he pressed his lips down on mine.
My heart burst into frantic beating, loud in my ears as the blood rushed through my horrified body. My mind tried to push it away, to reject his touch, but I could do nothing for it.
His slippery tongue was shoved into my mouth, he was rough, chocking me, leaving the taste of something long dead to linger, and coat my tongue with his rotten flesh.
He stood, lacing his fingers into my hair as I coughed and spat, trying to rid of his rotten taste. Then slowly, he smiled down and dragged me across his grave.
