I was getting ready for Wednesday evening service yesterday when it happened.
The strange abrasions on my back have never ceased to leave me, but rather they worsened. Yesterday was no exception. I was in the men's room, in the process of washing my hands, when I proceeded to cough. The coughing grew worse and worse until I could no longer breathe, and when I was bent over the sink to support myself, I began to cough up blood. Its splatter harshly contracted with the white ceramic, and it brought a strange new horror to my condition. The warm substance dripped from my mouth in an abominable flood.
I didn't understand why my father didn't take me to the hospital. I didn't understand why he continued to hide me in longer robes and baggier sweaters. I didn't get why the pain wouldn't leave. I didn't get why my back was molded from the strange things within it.
Who was I?
What was I?
I ran from the restroom, and the pain began to infest my spine again. Soon, I was doubling over, tripping over myself. The disability railing was my only support. I was in tears, trying to fight screams, only able to feel the pain crawl deeper and farther into my flesh.
It's too much. I can't take this.
I ran outside of the church, running against the torment of my body, this prison of pain. My mind began to blur. I was nearly on the road.
A car was approaching me from the left. They had just rounded the corner at full speed.
I ran even faster.
The pain couldn't stop my stride if the pain was no longer.
YOU ARE READING
DECEMBER JANE
FanfictionDecember is lost. Half of her body is now limited use, burned and scarred from a memory long lost. She is taken by two strange people, both murderers, and both determined to hide her from something. Until she meets a girl from the church down the ro...
