Into oblivion

Pretty knife

📚

I twist and turn, my foot runs cold as it lands on the wooden planked floor seeing as the only thing separating us is the mattress I keep shifting around in.

~ Flash back ~

"My parents aren't home Em stop looking at the damn door" he smiles down at me, but my eyes don't move. I keep staring incase someone, anyone would just walk and get him off me because at any given moment, I'm going to pass out, I can feel it, the way his long fingers are wrapping even tighter at my throat, it's inevitable. It's funny how your brain reacts when your life's in danger, how even when there's no way out it drives your body to try anyways. So my nails carry on digging past the layer of carpet, I don't think they actually realise that's there's no escape up until they begin to turn fragile, chipping at any bit of pressure they succumb to. It's when I let out a gust of air that I start to feel the buzzing sense of sleepiness take over, I can't stop it nor can I beg it to go away, and once I'm out he'll be free to do whatever it is he wants. My eyes close as my heart drops, his grinning face is the last image I get to take with me.

•

My sheets cling to my body as I try and rid myself of something that isn't there, something that stirs my stomach in all the wrong ways. I want it gone I groan, breathing deeply without control, just get it off me.

•

Door, I think to myself as I blink my burning eyes open, the door is open now. My head moves to look up at the ceiling but the soreness in my neck only shoot's adrenaline into me, I sit up gasping for air. The tears are unstoppable as I claw at my throat, I can taste the pain, it's bitter and it stings in all the wrong places, I'm scared, I'm absolutely terrified of everything including my own skin, it's like I might explode from just being alive. I glance down and stop in place, my pants- I don't have my pants on and my underwear is gone I'm- I- where- where am I bleeding from- I look further seeing a cut at my lower stomach, it's not deep enough to where it needs stitches but it's good enough to leave it there forever, leave him with me forever. Bloody fingerprints dance around my thighs and stomach, he's all over me and yet nowhere near. I begin to shake uncontrollably, my jaw tenses and I can't breath, I can't- my underwear, I look to my left without moving my head finding them ripped apart with a knife casually tangled inside the fabric. He cut them off me, I gasp falling ghostly still. Something soft plays in the background and it's when I really listen in where I find he's singing along to a song, he's cooking.

•

I jump forward, pushing the covers of my body till I'm covered in the cold air but like always it's never enough. My eyes close as I begin slowing my breaths down, at least enough to stop the spinning in my head and while I focus on that my fingers find the cut on my palm, pushing into the scar as deeply as I can. It hurts, god it hurts but I press down till I bleed, till the pain overcomes the panic attacks because that's all I have, all I have. When my limbs stop feeling like jelly I lay back down onto my wet sheets but the heat in my body only mixes with it creating a bomb of goosebumps to go off. The tears stream right past my face and I don't try to stop it, no point. My hands sit on my stomach feeling my skin with my fingers tips brushing past the scar he left me.

Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I stayed, if he really would've killed me right then and there but what I wonder most of all is why I feel so guilty, guilty that I got to live longer. I don't know when I exactly fell asleep but Donte's voice echoing through the hallway very quickly woke me up.