KILL ME SOFTLY

5

be our guest.

My body ached in an intensity that I couldn't stand. An echo of pain lingered in every limb of my body, and not even the coolness of the floor could comfort it.

My consciousness slipped, and fresh blood dripped slowly from the bandage and down my side. I pressed my hand firm over the bandage, but I don't know I did.

It was dark, so dark I could only see from the slot of light that fought to come under from the crack of the door. I laid in that little fraction of light, the strip of golden streaking across my eyes and over my waist.

The darkness was no longer an old friend of mine. This darkness terrified me. I have always loved the dark. I only slept in the darkest rooms, yet the idea of closing my eyes in this darkness—

I wanted to scream, and I had when they first closed the door and I was locked in with four cement walls and a pipe that tripped. They locked me in here and seemed to throw away the key.

I screamed, and screamed. I don't think I have even screamed as loud as I had. But I couldn't scream anymore, and I just stared.

A part of me started to wonder if this is where I'd die. Not in the alley way, not the stage, not the million dollar plane.

I think, I actually want to die. And I shouldn't. I should want to fight and give them hell, just like I promised.

But there is no reason that I should be alive when all those people—those woman...I know it wasn't supposed to be me that live.

And I couldn't get that out of my head. So I laid here and I waited to die. I waited and waited because there deaths were meaningless and I am not worthy for whatever sick gods are keeping me alive.

They died. They all fucking died and so did Rebecca.

I had sat at a table with her, I touched her skin and it was warm and then they shot her. They shot her in the head and her—her blood splattered on my face and she was cold and her eyes were blank.

I always know death. I have seen it, felt it.

But nothing like this. This—

"Syn." A voice whispered, as the door cracked open and light filled the room. I wanted to crawl to it.
"Were your parents making a joke or does it have some meaning behind it?" Aleksei continued as him and two men walked into the room.

I whispered something sweetly, under my breath, just loud enough for it to resonate in the air.

"What was that?" He asked, but he heard. And he crouched down beside me.

He dared me to speak, bark back like he wanted me to. No.

He was right beside me, not even a foot away.

"Answer me you little—" he growled, but I ready to with my bloody hand and struck his face, leaving a red handprint on his cheek.

And I laughed, I laughed as I turned over to my back to look at the ceiling. "I said You sound like someone who is Bitch made." I laughed as I said it, as I laid in the light.

"Shes bleeding. Heavy." He growled, as he placed his hand on me ribs. "Fuck."

"God just let me die I'm peace already!" I hissed, as I tried to get his hands away from me. But with one swift motion he pinned my wrists to the floor at my sides with his hands.

"If you die sweetheart it's my head on the chopping block." He growled, as he he forced his arms under my legs and shoulders and lifted me up and into the air, before throwing me over his fucking shoulder like a towel.