Forbidden Enchantment (Book One)

Forbidden Enchantment: Chapter 35

Sorry for the wait but writing this stuff takes time! xD For me anwyay.. .>.> Not quite to the end yet though... 

It was like the hate I felt for myself had somehow found its way to come back and haunt me. And now, it was starting me right in the face. The person I hated most, more than anyone else in the world, was right here, right in front of me. And there was nothing I could do but stand there and watch as she pulled her blood wrenched hand back and attacked me.

 35.

I couldn’t do anything but just stand there, as her fist collided with my stomach, and I doubled over in pain. Then came another blow; and yet another; and more were to come. Each time she hit me was like a blow to the heart, as if the darkness in me was gaining the upper hand, beating me down like it always did—had done—would always do. It was the inevitable part of me that told maybe there was nothing but darkness left in me, that this is what it would always come back down to: a battle. Whether it was in my head or not, this was war, and I had to find a way to get the upper hand, to push the darkness down or else . . . only God knew what would happen. I’d end up at the very bottom, not even bare fingers to help me claw my way back up to the top again. That was, of course, if there was such a thing as the top to get to.

Another blow came to me then, to my ribs, and I shrieked out, falling to the ground. What was so, so cynical about all of this was that as my pain grew, the girl in me yelled out in glee. Instead of screaming she would laugh that disgusting, shrill laugh of hers that almost made my ears split in agony. As my side began to throb, I winced, gluing my eyes shut. I took in a deep, ragged breath in an attempt to ease the pain, but it was no use: she hit me again—this time, a kick to the stomach. I doubled over with the pain that pulsed through me like daggers, as I rolled over, trying to shield my body. I bit down hard on my lip, making it slit. As I coughed, I coughed up blood, and that quipped with the blood from my sprouting lip was enough to make me want to throw up. I ignored the bile that was trying to climb up my throat, and instead, centred myself.

That girl—I refused to accept that she was me—had begun prancing around in a victory dance, her dress flapping around in the breeze that didn’t seem to leave. Just like the girl, it was going around and around, but in the opposite direction. Though, even as she danced against the wind, it was in perfect synchronism, as if it was tailored to perfection. It unnerved me, like there was something else that were going to happen, something planned that I had no idea about.

At the same time, my mind was telling me to take advantage of this situation and get up before she was going to attack me again. Slowly, I took in a deep breath, ignoring the pelts of blood raining down on me, ignoring the fact that my stomach felt like it had burst open, and ignoring the fact that my limbs were screaming at me for trying to attempt to move them. Hesitantly bringing my knees up, I took in deep breaths, knowing that controlling my breathing was the only thing that was going to get my way through this. As I brought my head up, pulling my blood dripping hair away from my eyes, I stared up at the sky as a wave of thunder pulsed through the air, making it completely still. I held my breath, as the girl stopped her prancing, to stare that at me. Shakily, I glanced up at her, as she stood, a thoughtful expression etched on her soft features. Making her seem almost innocent, but the blood dripping off her bodily features was enough to brush that thought off immediately. Lightning flashed through the thunderous red clouds, echoing the screams of those around me, which as much as I hated to admit it, was something which was starting to get more and more familiar . . . no! It couldn’t be! I reasoned with myself. How could I—anyone—get used to the sound of the absence of humanity!? Was I losing my humanity!? Was that what was going on!? Starting to panic, I began shaking even harder, grasping onto strands of my hair, pulling on them as hard as I could in an attempt to feel. I did not care if what I felt was hurt, or pain. As long as I felt, as long as it was something real that I could hold onto, I did not care what it was. I needed pain, hurt, anguish, or whatever else you wanted to call it. Clenching my teeth, I screamed out at myself, all the time while the girl watched me curiously, that damned air of thoughtfulness never leaving her aura that emanated in waves off of her. It was only then, that I noticed that the wind had passed, and that the dress, the yellow floral dress she was wearing, hung off the emaciated frame of the girl just as it would off a clothes hanger.