There I was, beating the crap out of Alexander. I continued to repeatedly hit him. Finally, I stood up off of his. He laid there out of it, trying to stay conscience. I went into his bedside table drawer and pulled out the pistol. I opened the gage to see how many bullets were already loaded. I stood at the foot of his bed, nervously holding the gun in my hands. My hands were shaking. He opened his eyes and saw what I was doing. “Shoot me. I dare you. I bet you don’t have the guts to do it, Princess,” My hearts burst with anger and pain. I heard his voice repeat princess, like it has for the longest time now. He had told he wasn’t done ‘princess’ when I tried to sit up in the room. I couldn’t take it. I drew it upwards aiming at his face. I was going to shoot it into his brain, hoping it lodges. I pulled the safety back and was ready to pull the trigger. “Do you have any last words you want to say? Any apologies you owe?” I said, gritting my teeth. He shook his head and continued to stare at me, starting to get nervous that I was actually serious. A single tear flew down my cheek. Not for the fact of what he did to me. Not for the fact I was about to kill him, but the fact that I was just now finding out how sweet revenge was. And it tasted delicious. I pulled the trigger with no remorse. The bullet went straight threw and came out the back of his head, blood splattering the blue wall. I then shot again at his heart. Blood spew from his mouth. The blood stain grew bigger upon his chest. I blew the tip of the gun. I walked over to the table drawer and placed the gun back in there.
I stared at the wall, realizing I had been imagining it again, just a continuance from earlier. This time, I didn’t bust a hand, or a foot or anything. I stared at the wall, realizing my reality was doomed. I did feel remorse that I had imagined myself becoming a murderer to the one who had murdered my life, not literally of course, but he had ruined it. “I wonder if she’s gone crazy,” I suddenly heard from out of my box. I was startled. I hadn’t heard another voice besides mine in so long, I felt like if I were in a new world. “Hello?” I screamed. “Maybe,” I heard another voice say. Suddenly, light burst into my cell. “Oh god, she’s disgusting.” I covered my face with both hands and screamed. Not only from the pain of the sunlight, but I hadn’t seen the people now in front of me. “Jesus, shut up!” One of them said. I stopped screaming. I slowly moved my hands from my face to reveal that it was Liz and the guy who had thrown me in here. “She busted her hand,” Liz said. I began to crawl towards Liz. I put my arms around her, thankful there was someone in front of me, forgetting what she had done to me. It was someone there and with me that I cared about and wanted. I put all my weight on her unknowingly. “Get off me!” She screamed. She shoved me down to the ground and screeched. “What are you doing?” She yelled. I lay on the ground staring up at her hopelessly. “Why are you doing this?” I choked up air to say. “Why? I’ll tell you why!” She yelled. She walked in front of me and sat on my chest again. The air escaped out of me as she sat upon me. She began to drastically punch at my face again, making more pretty cuts from her ring. I began to bleed even more. She paused, “The reason I’m doing this is because you’re pathetic. You deserve to be beaten. You’re a horrible example of women. All prostitutes are, but when I found out what you were doing, I couldn’t believe it. You were my friend and you lied to me. You said not to tell anyone about the club, but then you went and told people. And you acted like you were having nightmares to get attention from my parents! How horrifyingly stupid.” She began punching up my face again. She then grabbed with one claw and scrapped at my face, leaving slice marks. “I’ll tell you what really happened, just please stop!” I demanded, screaming at the top of my lungs with the last bit of air I had left. “I won’t be lying when I tell you, I promise. You know me, I don’t break promises,” I said, hoping and pleading her with my eyes. She got off of my chest and stood up. She stood me up and sat me gently in a chair. “Alright, I’m listening,” She said harshly. I took many deep breaths, trying to regain air in my lungs. I sighed, “My parents have been abusing me ever since I was five. I never told you, because I didn’t want to burden you or your parents. That night, I never had sex with three guys, and gave five guys blow jobs or whatever the rumor was. None of that happen!” I said with all honesty. “That night, the guy that asked me to dance, raped me. I watched him walk out of the club a free man when I came to you and said I wanted to go. The reason I screamed near the bathroom when you joked about it being a spider that I had seen, it wasn’t. I had thought I saw Alexander, the guy who raped me.” Now even the guy was listening to my story. He stood next to Liz, feeling horrible for what he had helped with. All along, they had been crucifying the victim, not the perpetrator. “When I woke up screaming, I had had a bad dream. He had almost raped me again. I couldn’t sleep, so I went downstairs. I wanted to act like nothing had happened. I told no one. At least it stayed that way. I wanted to tell all of you what had happened, but I knew I couldn’t. I was scared and I just wanted life to go back to normal. But no one was letting that happen. Then at the coffee shop, I tried to tell you, but I chickened out. And then when you confronted me with the rumor, I was confused and had no idea what was going on. Then you came to my house and I was about to tell you what was what, when I was chloroformed,” I finished, out of breath. Liz stared at me horrifyingly. She had done wrong to me and believed pathetic rumors. She stared at the ground. “I’m…” She began. “Don’t. You’ll just make it worse for you.” I stared at the guy and back towards her. “Are you going to throw me back in my cell, or am I free to go?” I asked, scared they were going to execute me. Liz raised her head, frowning horrifying with herself. “You’re free to go.” I stared at her, relieved.
I began limping to my freedom. I walked out of the jail house and walked all the way home. I had no idea what was waiting for me or how long it had been. I had no idea how I looked, as people passed me on the streets. I had no idea what life had been like while I was gone or what was going to happen. Were my parents actually worried about me, or had they not even noticed that I was gone? On the way home, I had passed a newspaper. I knelt down and picked it up. I was staring at it, my jaw wide open and my eyes wide. The date was it was February 3rd. It was my birthday. They had released me on my own birthday. What a wonderful birthday. I had spent a total of five months in there. What about Jason? Has he found someone about me else? Is he worried about me?
I walked into my house all bloody. Blood dripped from my face onto the ground. I had dirt stains on my face. I could have surpassed a bloody homeless chick. There sat my parents on the couch talking. My father immediately got up and pushed me against the door, causing it to shut. I screamed and yelled. They continue to punch me. My mother got up and grabbed a lamp. She walked over to me and she began to pulverize me. I laid on the ground, bleeding to death. I crawled away from the door, trying to crawl to safety. They didn’t say a single word; they just continued to beat me. My mother hit my ribs, making one make a snapping noise. I felt instant pain everywhere they hit and kicked and hit me with the metal lamp. I wondered when it’d end.
The door, out of nowhere shot open. There stood Jason, his eyes wide, looking at the scene going on. My parents didn’t even hear him. He disappeared into another room. “Get off her!” He yelled. I noticed he was holding something. My dad turned around and punched him. He then turned back to me and began kicking my kidney as hard as he could possibly do so. Suddenly, my dad fell to his knees and fell over onto his stomach. All I could see was knife. I quickly pulled it out of his back with all my might. Jason stood there staring, noticing what my next move was. As my mother last hit me, I stared at her. I held up the knife, “Good-bye Momma,” I yelled. I plunged the knife into her stomach, sliced it downward. Her intestines fell out as she fell over. I plunged the knife into her heart as well, making sure she was dead. I stood on my knees, knife in hand, staring at Jason, my eyes wide open and my mouth still ajar. Tears quickly soaked my face, as realization of everything hit me all at once. My parents were no longer able to hit me. Liz knew the truth. Jason was standing in front of me. I just killed my parents.
