SURVIVOR

E N D I N G P A R T O N E: // You are My Down Fall //

The Next Morning...

The sun greeted my cousiosness by glaring down onto my closed eyelids, my head pounded as my eyes burned.

I slowly sat up on the couch I had fallen asleep on the night before, the vodka bottle was still spilled and the television was still... shattered.

Atleast that marked off one of their entries.

The f/c walls were hidden in the sun's gaze, the curtains were drawn open displaying the snow like wonderland outside. "Fuck." I groaned, swinging my legs off of the side of the couch and struggled to stand up. I held my head as I stumbled into the kitchen, it was cold, the depressing season even managed to find it's way into my home.

My sore legs took me to the oven, Flipping on the switch and grabbed an open bag of ramen from the counter besides it. I walked around the kitchen gathering what I needed, a pot and filled it with cold water. I walked back to the oven where I could already feel the heat radiating off of the stove, and set down the pot.

I let my hands rest on the wooden counter on both sides of the oven, leaning onto it for support as I closed my burning eyes.

I was alone, just like I was so many years ago. Waiting on the couch for Grandma to get off of work, waiting for mom to come home 'happy'.

Waiting for dad to get out of prison, to get out of death.

"Why me? What the fuck...why me? OUT OF ALL PEOPLE WHY ME?!" I shouted, clenching my fists and let my nails dig into the wood. It wasn't that I was selfish, why do I even to say that? At this point in my life I didn't give two shits about other people, I just wanted help.

To feel alive again.

Not some corpse, moping around it's home waiting for its mommy and daddy to come home when it knows they are dead, gone from their after life.

SSSSSSS!

"Shit!" I gasped, quickly grabbing the handle bar to the pot and lifted it off the stove. I wanted to set it down, but my eyes flashed to the black ring on the kitchen table from Mom setting down her macaroni pot while it boiled.

Once the water cooled down, I set it besides the oven and shut off the heat. I reached over and grabbed the ramen packet and poured in the necessary ingredients, and began to stir.

My eyes trailed out to the kitchen window Infront of myself, the snow piled onto the glass begging to be let in.

For a short moment, I felt free, untill a dreaded meeting brought me out of my daze.

KNOCK

KNOCK

"Y/n? You home?"

My eyes widened, I nearly dropped the wooden spoon into the pot at the man's voice. The door was locked, but the voice from behind me, outside made me think a gun was pointed to my head.

"Y/n? I know your in there, please, let's talk." The gruff voice spoke again, pounding on the door once more. I gulped, no way in hell I was going to respond or talk to him.

I heard the door handle jiggle, and him ram against the wood of the door trying to brake in.

"Y/N! Just open the damn door!" He was getting angry now.

My mind acted on its own, my arm reached to the side of my frozen body and slid out a large butcher's knife from the knife block. The wooden handle bar was cold against my palm, I was sure the blade was colder.

I backed away from the stove, shaking.

A dog never forgets he who kicks it, a dog never forgets the tone in your voice when it does something wrong. A dog never forgets when you look at it a surten way, a dog never forgets, and neither does a victim.