My Addiction - Tom kaulitz

Power

Although it would be a quick release, dying where I stand is not an option for me. I tighten my hand around the icy shard, and allow the blood seeping from the slice in my palm to drip down my wrist and make sickening swirling patterns along my trembling arm, like some morbid paintbrush. I silently pick my foot up from the ground and place it on the step above me, stealthily ascending up the cold marble steps. "Silence isn't going to save you, Angel. Do I have to make the decision for you?" Tom's voice startles me, his tone mocking me. 

Despite his threats I keep myself quiet, the only thing driving me being pure adrenaline. My heart drums against my ribcage like a battle cry. The blood on my arm continues to trickle, each drop feeling like a countdown to some inevitable disaster. Yet I continue to move up, listening to Toms heavy breaths to help navigate my way up the stairs. "Times up." He bellows down the stairs, I leap onto him, latching my arms around his neck,  my feet firmly planted beneath me. I hold my makeshift weapon up to his neck and let my hand press harder as the world around me pounds into my shaking body , like a relentless, impending storm. His breath hitches in his throat and his Adams apple rises, slicing the thin skin guarding his esophagus, his blood mingles with my own on the shard of glass, becoming a potent mix of metallic fluids interwinding together into a sickly mix. 

"Get off." He whispers gently each word barely audible, "No." I push harder. He swallows against the pressure and tilts his head back. "Go and sit down." I demand, following closely behind him as he treads carefully down the stairs. As he leans back into his armchair I flick the nearest lamp on illuminating his face, highlighting the beads of sweat glazing his reddened forehead. I stand before him, weapon pressed on his thigh, as I stare into his eyes while he grows ever so slightly helpless. 

"Why me. Why is it me Tom? What exactly do you gain from the torment you cause me?" I question as the shard breaks through his baggy denim jeans, exposing the soft skin hiding beneath it. He stays silent, his mind wanders someplace else as he gathers the words to answer my question, "Because I fucking can, Angel." His expression stays numb as he speaks, "From the moment I saw you sat in that parking lot, alone, and so helpless, I knew I could have you. And I did. You got in my fucking car, it took absolutely no convincing. You were so lost, so desperate, and I liked that. I like knowing that you cannot leave me because without me you will be sleeping in alleyways just as you were and always have been. You cannot leave because out there you will die a slow painful death, you know that if you stay here it won't be so drawn out and excruciating. And a tiny little part of you likes the fact that you can't escape, you like the feeling of being chased and hunted by me, because nobody ever cared about you, did they Angel?" I pause as he rants,  "I'll kill you. I'll kill you right now Tom." I press the glass into his thigh gaining a sharp his from Tom's now pursed lips. "You'll do no such thing." He teases "I have the power here Tom." I twist the glass "But you don't. Look at yourself. How could you, a malnourished, fatigued and weak girl have any power over me? I can change this whole situation right now, but I thought it might be nice to give you the pleasure of feeling in control for once in your pathetic life."

"You don't have any purpose in anyones life except for when you're here, do you? I don't recall any of your family begging for your company, do you? No. What a shame, someone as complex as you has no real impact on anyones life except your own, and your decisions only ever end up digging a grave for no one other than yourself. Do you not see how fucking pointless your life is? Do you not see how ridiculous you look clinging on to the very last thread of hope you have? What do you have left? Other than the false reality of the real world, what do you have left? No family, no friends, no job, no house, no bed, no nothing. You have nothing, you are nothing. Angel, give up. There's nothing you can do to stop anything from happening and you know it, so stop fighting and let me help you. Let me take you as my own, let me have you, let me own you. I will show you the things you have craved your whole life, just give in." I remove the shard from his leg and send it thrashing back down into the revealed part of his thigh, the upper part of his body hurdles forward. 

He grabs a fistful of my matted hair in his hand and drags my head up to his, "Bad choice darling." he pulls my head down, contorting my body as my other hand is forced away from my only slither of defence. "Really bad fucking choice." He shoves my head down even further pressing my face against the floor, he kneels beside me as he rips the glass from his leg and smashes it onto the floor, it explodes into thousands of tiny pieces that bounce around madly in every possible direction, hundreds of the fragments slash against my hot face, slicing the delicate skin on my eyelids and nipping at my cheeks. He lifts my head back up by the same fistful of hair and brings his other hand to my face, wiping the tiny beads of blood beginning to form along my skin. "You're lucky you're this beautiful or I would've killed you by now." The muscles in my neck cramp as I'm being forced into a bundle each limb sprawled out awkwardly.