She stared death in the face and she smiled.
At least that's what the stories said.
So they called her the queen of darkness.
But some knew better.
And so they called her the devil instead.
-S.E George
I'm not a complicated woman.
But I suppose...
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November 11th 12pm
I had been told to just go back to my room and wait for Jessica to bring some suitable clothes. Kinda pissed me of that their egos and fragile masculinity did not allow them to accept that what I'm wearing is a suitable outfit. But if i told them my opinions on this, then I wouldn't stop there.
I could rant for hours and hours about how people believe that everyone is equal and how it's sooo much better than the olden days. How those people are all deluded and wrong.
It annoys me to just think about it. Which is why I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Zoning out and thinking about who knows what.
Somehow I ended up napping. I woke up in a sweat and panicking. I scrape at my throat to try and stop feeling the rope tied around it. I haven't dreamt about that in a very, very long time.
I slow my fast breathing and look over to see Jessica smirking at me. What the fuck is wrong with her?!
'Do you need something or are you just gonna be weird?' I ask as I wipe the sweat away from my forehead. My heart still raced out of my chest. I wanted to breakdown and cry, but I couldn't because this bitch wanted a cat fight. And I was going to give it to her.
'Just enjoying the show' she laughs at me. A hysterical laugh that sets of a timer inside me. Never have I given anyone this amount of time to be rude and disgusting towards me.
And so I jump out of bed and uppercut her jaw. Her head swings back and she falls on her arse with a thump. She is shocked at my fast movements but she has no time to register the pain I had just caused her.
Not before I'm on top of her, punching her. Over and over again. Deep down I know I'm not hitting her my hardest. But in the moment, all I see is black and white lights, swimming in my blurred vision. There's specks of blood on my knuckles. Jessica's nose gushed. I thought about the dream, about how it angered me to my core. And I took it out on her.
I shouldn't have, I should've kept my cool. But life is full of 'should haves and shouldn't haves' you either did or you didn't. And I didn't, nothing can change that.
She's screaming and crying, trying to claw at my face. But I'm to overtaken by the adrenaline and the dream that I had just had. She could have come at any other time! But I was too shaken up to put up with her shit.
A number of people come running into the room, trying to pry me of of her. But I get in one last hit before they manage it. The crack echoed through the room, evidence of her newly broken nose.
Someone else drags her crying body out of the room whilst I kick and claw at whoever's holding me back. Someone else is in front of me, trying to grab at my legs. But I kick whoever it is between the legs and they buckle onto their knees.
I feel a needle slide into my neck, sleep making its way. I slowly lost the will to kick my legs, to move my arms. I was limp and powerless.
The last things I feel is a tear rolling down my cheek.
