The Sea's of Blood. [Merformers]

Chapter 1: Uneasy Memories

Alysia POV:

My laughter echoed through the stolen Chevy Camaro as I careened down the highway, the Silenced Desert Eagle casually tossed onto the passenger seat. Beside the imposing handgun lay a blood-smeared lumber axe and a knotted rope sliced through by a knife. The flashing blue and red lights of pursuing police reflected in my rear-view mirror, but I couldn't be bothered anymore.

Gripping the steering wheel with tense hands, I expertly weaved through traffic, effortlessly avoiding the semi-trucks and law-abiding cars. The relentless police tail attempted pit maneuvers, but my swift reactions foiled their every move.

Anticipating my next move, I spotted a semi-truck loaded with gasoline about 1,000 feet ahead. With a calculated maneuver, I rammed the Camaro's hood into the front wheels of the truck, causing a chaotic skid. The truck veered out of control, the wheels crossing in an unnatural twist.

BOOM!

The gasoline container flipped, engulfing the surroundings in flames. Several police Dodge Chargers were caught in the explosive aftermath, triggering a chain reaction of collisions. Glancing at my rear-view mirror, I estimated at least a dozen casualties.

Mocking the failed pursuit, I chuckled, "Foolish assholes, the cat never caught the mice and ended up a dead one!" My laughter resonated until a sudden, jarring sound pierced the air. The Camaro jerked uncontrollably as a metallic snap echoed. Panic surged as I struggled to regain control, but the swerving tires propelled me into oncoming traffic. In the blink of an eye, the lights of an approaching car and the blaring horn filled my senses, prompting a scream of terror as I instinctively shielded my face with my hand.

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I awoke gasping for air, my body jerking upright in bed. Sweat drenched my trembling form as I surveyed my dimly lit room. The glow of the alarm clock on the nightstand revealed the haunting hour: "2:32 am. Another damn night terror," I muttered, frustration etched across my face.

Casting off the suffocating covers, I kicked my pillow onto the cluttered bedroom floor. Exiting the room and descending the hallway, I sought refuge in the bathroom, flicking on the harsh light I covered my eyes instinctively before moving toward the sink. Reaching for the handle I flipped it on, a splash came as water ran down from the faucet.

Cupping my hands under the running tap, I splashed cool water onto my face, releasing a heavy sigh from my chest. Peering into the mirror, I looked at the bags under my eye. Reaching up I touched my tousled brown hair framed my face, and my golden eyes seemed to pierce through the darkness.

I felt a sharp pain in my head as I grunted and reached for my forehead, stumbling back and slamming into the wall. I glanced at the mirror momentarily before closing my eyes for a moment. School memories resurfaced as I recalled the cruel taunts of my classmates. I was often taunted for my hair, the callings of 'Mud hair' or 'Poor girl' by my classmates were relentless. Recesses spent in solitude in tears, hidden in the sanctuary of the girls' bathroom.

Shaking my head I collected myself together again. Reaching up I brushed aside the tangled strands obscuring my face, I spat out remnants of hair that had intruded into my mouth.

With a gentle touch, my fingertips traced the open slash that ran from one side of my jawbone to the other; ear to ear precisely. The sensation of the gooey interior of my gum flooded my senses, terror of that fateful day replaying in vivid detail..

FLASHBACK

"Father, please, I'm sorry!" I screamed, desperation in my voice as I crawled backward on the cold tile floor, my tiny hands gripping the floor as if there was something to even grip on. Tears streamed down my face, as my father advanced with each unsteady step. "You shouldn't have thrown *hic* my damn alcohol *hic* away!" he bellowed, the effects of his inebriation evident in his slurred words.

As he approached, he seemed to stumble, misplacing his footsteps. Despite his unsteady gait, he managed to reach me, reaching down he sat atop my chest, pinning my arms beneath his kneecaps. I sobbed, attempting to pull my arms free, but his grip held firm. He looked back up and grabbed a large kitchen knife in his hand. He turned back toward me and with a forceful motion, he opened my mouth, bringing the blade to the inside of my gum.

The sudden jolt of pain elicited screams as he cut through the flesh, tracing a path to the back of my lower jaw. Trapped and helpless, I had nowhere to escape, no one to rescue me. I screamed, fought, wailed but it was all useless. He halted, pulling the knife away, only to repeat the horrifying process on the other side of my jaw. Each scream felt like an eternity, the pain unbearable like a time loop that was to never end.

Finally, he stopped and removed the blade, releasing his hold on me. He got up and kicked me in the side as I choked on the air. "Stupid little brat, that's what you *hic* get for throwing my alcohol away," he muttered, tossing the blood-stained kitchen knife into the sink before sauntering toward the living room. I lay there, sobbing uncontrollably, my bleeding mouth staining my clothes. I tried to stand up but fell back down, my mouth felt like it was on fire by someone lighting with gasoline.

Helpless and abandoned, no one came to rescue me from the clutches of my abusive father..

FLASHBACK END

Gasping for air, I returned to the present, my hands visibly trembling from the aftershock of the haunting memories. "Ten damn years ago," I grumbled, a bitter acknowledgment of the persistent flashbacks that had become an unfortunate part of my life.

After that incident and when the authorities got me and took me to the hospital, the diagnosis I received in my youth for these traumatic episodes didn't surprise me. I had always known that my past would leave its mark. Despite the intelligence that marked me as a perceptive young kid back then, the scars of my experiences lingered into a haunting even in my adult life.

Even so, I couldn't forget about my mother. She was only 23 years old when she died in a car accident on her way back from the store to get food. I remember her vividly that she would sing me a sweet melody to sleep if I hand trouble sleeping but.. she was gone.. My father was miserable after her death and took all the blame out on me. He started to drink and smoke a lot which made him violent and started to hit me and abuse me a lot.

Never the less.. now in my adult years I live on my own in a small house near the beach side. It's a small rural town with some farms nearby for growing crops. I estimated the population when I first moved in to be about 1,370 people. Not bad for a rural area, but it will make do for a comfortable life without anyone knowing what I've done.

Looking back toward the sink, I grabbed a handful of water and splashed it onto my face one final time. Taking a deep breath, I switched off the water and dried my face with a towel before leaving the bathroom. Reaching at the light switch and turning it off before I left.

Returning down the hallway I walked slowly as my feet dragged across the wooden floor. Approaching my room I navigated the chaos of my messy room, I tiptoed past discarded clothes and various objects strewn across the floor that I never bothered to clean up. Reaching my bed, I glanced at my nightstand and checked the time – nearly 3 am.

Settling back into the tangled sheets, I gazed at the ceiling, lost in contemplation. Rolling on my side I tried to find a comfortable position.

"Maybe this time.. life will offer peace to me," I thought to myself. Slowly, I began to drift into the realm of dreams as my eyes started to close slowly, the only lingering question being...

What will life have in store for me?