Lumai's Mind

Chapter 17: Phase Three

Turns out they're less abusive when they're high. But extremely mean, teasing and mocking. I'd rather them be like this than beating me up, though. Another thing I've noticed is they were quite flirty and ended up doing the nasty. Hopefully this gets them hooked enough for the plan. I mean, when that mouse in a experiment figured out pressing a button gave it an organism, it keep pressing it until it died. Maybe they'll keep taking drugs because it leads to pleasure?

My wounds have scabbed slightly over night but I'm still in severe pain when I move –or don't move. Always in pain because of them. Those monsters hurt me, I'll have no mercy, sympathy or regret when I hurt them. Not when they are begging and screaming. Not when they can barely move. Not when they're crying blood.

I will laugh when the fear and regret sets in. When they realise they chose this without thinking of consequences. They will suffer until their own bodies and minds destroy them.

I smiled sickly at the thought. Being good only worked until your first mistake, being evil makes you the predator. Why be a bunny when you can be a fox. I can't rush this though, they have to rot in living bodies. Distracted while I heal; once I'm stronger I'll be the one with the belt. I hope they vomit their organs out and drown in their blood.

It's Tuesday but I'm not going to school. They stayed up very late and will probably be hung over as well as any drug repercussions. They won't even know I'm here. Demon and Devil will soon be the tortured souls.

I napped the rest of the day, only getting up to use the bathroom, get water and once sneaking out to come back in as if I'm coming home from school. It was pointless, however, because they weren't even home –Devil should have been but alas, he was not and I went through so much pain for nothing.

I was laying in my bed and looking around my room. It was bland except for the trinkets and objects. Souvenirs of Memory Lane. The little earth stress ball I got from Questacon in Canberra, I remember there was a spider exhibit and a ball that held lightning. The termite stick from a bush walk we did, I'd asked Mum what they were drawing. My small smile became I frown when I remembered they were all lies, the from deepened at the next object I saw. A small scrap of metal Tyler and I found on the way home on day, he told me to keep it so I can make my own wind chimes.

Lies. Facades. Tricks.

Nothing of my childhood was true, just prolonged misery for everyone else. They made my life joyous at the cost of their own happiness, they made me believed I had family just to destroy it. They wanted me to be hurt. Everybody wants me to suffer, I can make them suffer more. I was laughing for twelve years that I was ruining the lives of people. Now I will make everyone else see that pain.

Shoot a bullet at me and I'll throw a grenade at you. Waterfalls run, adapt, hide. Acid rain dillydallies around while it burns. A tornado of fire and knives is my goal now, with a trail of smoking blood.

Sudden inspiration hit me and I slowly sat up before searching for paper and something to draw. Lead pencil, it'll do. I got into the most comfortable position and winced slightly as me back stretched. I lightly dragged my finger over the bottom of a gash, when I felt wetness, I pulled back. My blood coated my middle and index finger but I just stared at it, watched as a droplet tricked down my hand and arm like a tear.

Mesmerized and curious, I pushed my fingers onto the paper and began drawing with my blood. It took awhile and I needed more blood every now and then but I made a tornado painting with flames surrounding it.

A blood vow.

"All my misery will be returned as agony." I murmured with resolve. "All kindness is to be wary of."