Brutally Beautiful.

Hellmouth.

My eyes flashed open.
Was it a night or day? I've not known.
My tears sticking to the perfectly clean sheet.

My body pressed numbly in the hospital bed, I looked out at the window and seen a cloudy velvet like sky. Velvet burials. Everything seemed like its covered in mist.

Somewhere upon the morning sky, and below the ground, in the entrance of hellmouth, two pairs of souls are disturbed. Murdered by hands once known as the creation of the absolute.

I pulled my body up, and sat comfortably in the bed, looking at the view outside the window.
I opened it up and let the cold breeze freeze my exposed legs, arms and misty tears.

I walked around my room, feeling cold, and numb.
I'd move all around and then stop at the hall which did not look like the hospital I've been still the last night. It looks shockingly too familiar.
I entered a room which I thought was a bathroom, when my naked eyes experienced something way too bizarre. I saw a boy who prepared a normal dinner, his unstable mind and sparkle in his eye, on the end of the rounded table there was a girl tied to a chair, that girl is me.
My mind was playing tricks on me, recalling memories I should not think of.
The girl in the illusion in front of my eyes was unconscious and tied. Her hair swirling to the left and right.

"Dear Hailey, I very much hope you like the dinner I prepared for tonight." He said. "I made rice and chicken, classic." Proudly he snapped on his knife.
"I hope you like it, I made it for us, my love. Only."
The girl in the illusion barely awake, soaked in tears, sweat and blood, she was mad.

Or am I?

I rubbed my eyes, gazing across the room for an exit, am I hallucinating?

"Do you like it, Dear?" Luke asked with his husky, unstable tone.
No response.
"Do you like it?"
Silence.
"Why won't you try it." His teeth clench. He moved the table violently breaking the vase with flowers. "Wake up." He moved across the table, throwing wine on my face.
The illusion of myself was tied up, my hands not able to move, rope inside my mouth.

I remember this.
That had taken place a month ago.

"Eat it." He ripped the rope inside my mouth and stuffed the spoon with food over it. "Eat it!"

Stop.

"Eat it!" he screamed, my mouth sore, and tongue numb. "Choke!"

Stop.

"DIE!" he screamed, his voice like echo responding to the walls.

Stop.

The illusion of me weeped loudly. The knife slightly cutting my pale, fragile lips, and drops of blood spilling down my chin.

Make it stop!

"What's that?" He squeezed my cheeks.
His eyes directing to the blood, he grinned and his eyes widened. Breaking our distance. His tongue tasting my blood, moving across my neck like I was the last drop in the middle of a desert.

"Stop." I muttered, my real self.

I opened the first shelf beside my hospital bed, and took a pair of scissors, breathing heavily, weeping my soul out I glared at the illusion of Luke taking off the last pride left off in me. Tasting the last bit of my innocence. Depriving me off my life.
They took everything, and I'm left with nothing but shame, and helpless pain deep inside. Somewhere the hands of my soul cannot reach. Screaming the last drop of tears inside of me I run to Luke and kept stabbing him nonstop. Stabbing off the last pieces of his filthy existence. His sick love. Him. Looking at him turning into the smoke and disappearing with everything including my illusion like he were nothing, like this meant nothing, purifying the dirt he left, the pain he caused, the shame he created, and agony he made.
He won't run away this time. He's gonna pay for everything he did more than once, more than the universe will ever let me. I will haunt him down, the son of a devil. The soul... I... murdered.

The cries did not stop. I kept stabbing the empty air. I lost control and my senses. The screams had taken control, heavens leaving my spirit.

Chaos. That's what I am and what's what I created.

The doors slammed open, and two pairs off strong arms held me down onto the ground, "Hailey, stop!" His lips redder than ever, "What's happening?" He screamed trying to overcome my tone. He took the scissors off my palms. I could not stop crying and weeping.
And those pair of hands couldn't prevent that this time. "Hailey! Hailey! Hey, stop it!"

A bearable weight covered my body and my back feeling cold, pierced on the floor.
My body trying to overcome his weight, and escape his prison.
He let out a very loud scream, my muscles suddenly relaxed, and my eyes met God in his.

Nurses, and doctors came in. A few patients, too, checking out for an entertainment I must have given to them. The freak show I am. But it didn't matter.

I had those eyes that I desire looking for me, making me feel safe in a glimpse, and warm in the coldest night of October.

A nurse suggested Leviathan to stay in this position for a couple more minutes before she gives me a dose of tranquilizers which worked in a split of a second.

Leviathan got off me and sat on the floor, keeping me tightly in his arms, asking me what just happen, and I was unable to reply. He played with my face as if drawing life with his thumbs on deaths face.
"I'm sorry for not being here." He said sadly.
But it's not true, his presence fills me with more hope than I've ever felt for those past months.

But I knew one thing, I was gone.

I'm trapped, and he's free.
Why isn't he in glee? When I don't matter.
And his light I shatter. He's cold and odd, and I'm endlessly flawed, doing things he loved.

Entrance to my hellmouth.
Of nothing that kills.
I'm trapped, and I can't let go.

Who I am? Do I matter? Do you matter? Does anything even matter?

If nothing does, then how is that those dark eyes make me ache of hunger for life.

Leviathan.

A sea monster, the seventh prince of hell.
A beautiful man, with three horns, and sharp teeth.

Will he keep begging you for mercy? Will he speak to you with gentle words?

I passionately did desire him.
My seventh crime.