When Time Runs Out

Demons

                  Pain sprung every time, the belt was brought down on my bruised, scarred back. "That should teach you to never run away again!" My father scolded as he once more brought down the leather whip. "Why can't you be like your sister, we should have never given birth to you" my mother muttered under her breath, while she brought my "perfect sister" under her right arm, while her left hand held a bottle of alcohol. Tears ran down my face as I felt the whip struck once more. A smirk of pity leaked onto my face, which sneakily appeared as my tongue caught the stranded tear by my lips. I had a deranged life, yes, I will admit it. I never had a normal life. Pain, that all I had felt my whole life, I had never felt happiness, love. I felt pain, destroyed, lost of all hope.

I lay on the ground scrounged up, using my body as a shield, I lay covering the only thing that put a thin line between me and death. "Time" a book I found in the garbage, thrown away,  unused, left to rot. The story was beautiful, mysteriously written, it gave you the feeling like you were turning every corner, expecting to find a new shock, a new death, a new life. It talked about how a girl, blackmailed with bait, has to survive, completing almost impossible tasks that are timed, under the visions of a unknown mysterious man. Who is said to be a sadistic, murder, using these tasks to get back at the ones whom he hated.

Wrapping my arms around the now beaten up cover of the book, I heard the sounds of metal. "I see you smirking" my dad hissed "Why don't you try smirking after you get beaten by this!" My eyes wandered to the ceiling, only for the scene to show a metal bar, the one we used to help prop up the window. Dents, clumped on the bar as the faded black paint started to peel off the rusted metal object. I looked to my mom,  my eyes pleading for help. A look of guilt flashed in her eyes, only for a second, before she squeezed my sister tighter and looked away. My sister was holding her phone, ready to record the beating, the phone was crowded with stickers and plastic jewelry, while she turned the camera to her, sticking her tongue to the camera quickly before turning the camera shot back to record what was about to happen.

The metal bar hit my side, a jolt of pain sprung at the same time. I could feel my ribs breaking, a loud crack echoed into the room. Screams of pain, tore through my voice. Tears from terror, flushed my face. Though that didn't stop the continuous whacking, nor did it stop the laughing, or the recording.

Why, must I have ever been born. To live with strangers that hate me, despise me. Why, tell me.

My eyes blurred from the tears, I watched as the three demons continued to laugh, hit and point. Until after what seemed like forever, they lost interest. Like I was some toy, some kind of doll, they bought and couldn't care any less if it was thrown away. They lost interest and finally the torture stopped. For now...

Pathetically thrown away like a toy, again. Once more.

Aching pain, shot through my back, I screamed in terror, I cried in terror. No one came, no one even cared.

Sight faded like the night, images became blurry, life became scarce.

Is this my time?
My time?
...who cares....
Maybe I will be...happier....