His slowly slipped his long, slender finger inside of me. I could feel myself loosen around him. He looked at me with his green eyes and asked "are you ready?"
I nodded yes.
I felt him align his nine inch member to my tight hole. He slowly started pushing in. His member was much larger than his skinny finger. I gasped for air as he continually slide inside me.
He began to push faster and deeper, the pressure between my legs growing out of control. I clench my teeth and such in air through my teeth as the pain intensifies. "I want to try something," he says,
I nod my head slowly. His large hands grab my waist and he quickly flips me over. "Hold still," he tells me. "This is going to hurt," his deep voice sends chills down my spine.
Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my abdomen. I look down to see the tip of a knife sticking out from my stomach and a pool of blood on the bed below me.
I turn around slowly. He stands over me with the light flickering over half of his face. A sinister smile creeps across his face as he says in a dark, low voice, "the insanity has taken over."
***
I awake four days later, in a place I don't recognize. All I can see is white, nothing more. I stand up, look around, but still all I can see are endless, white walls.
I look down and notice that I'm wearing a white dress, stained with blood all over. I look at my hands and see blood dripping down onto the floor. Soon, I realize that I'm standing in a pool of my own blood.
***
I awake in my room, somewhere familiar. It has been eight months since I was attacked by the only man I ever loved.
The nightmares haven't stopped. Harry has since been placed in Western State Hospital. A psychiatric ward on the edge of town. The doctors say he has severe schizophrenia mixed with bi-polar disorder. Apparently he hadn't taken his meds weeks before he attacked.
Today is the first day I will see him since.
"Niall, are you ready?" My mum yells from downstairs. "It's time."
Slowly, I rise from my bed. I pick up a dirty grey t-shirt from the ground, about to pull it over my head when I notice my sickly figure in the mirror.
My frail bones poke out of every joint n my body and the color of my skin has yet to return from its pasty green discoloration. I gently caress my finger across the infected, ugly lining my stomach, instantly pulling away. I've had enough of this scar, so I pull the grey t-shirt over my head.
I'm about to find a beanie to fix my bed head, when I hear a loud crash down stairs, followed by a gut wrenching scream. I quickly leave my room, running downstairs, but regret it just as I do so.
I find my mother's bloody, distorted corpse smashed through the coffee table. Standing only several feet away is the monster who had done it. Harry.
A twisted smile grows across his face as his eyes meet mine. Then he says in a low whisper, growling almost. "Hello, miss me?"
My face instantly drops. Fear is spread throughout my entire body, but I can't move. I'm frozen. Everything inside me is telling me to run, but I can't. Harry starts to walk towards me, with a smile on his face.
"Why are you doing this? What have I done to you?" I scream with tears coming down my face as I look at my mum's dead body.
"What haven't you done?" He says with a smile.
I study his face. His eyes are no longer the bright green they were when I first met him. Now they're faded to the point where I wasn't sure if any color was even left. Let alone any life.
I can feel the tears roll down my face. "Wha-what does that mean?" I say through my sobbing. His wide grin slowly changes into a grimace, almost like he is trying to process what I had just asked.
Anger grows in his eyes. "YOU RUINED ME YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BITCH," he bellows through gritted teeth. His words cut me just like his knife. He stands there, breathing deeply, slobber falling from his dry lips.
He leans down and grabs a large piece of glass from the shattered coffee table that is littered around my mum's lifeless body. He holds on tight enough that blood begins to drip from his palm.
My eyes dart across the room searching for my escape, but the only two exits are back up the stars, or the front door, which his vile body blocks. "Uh-uh," he ticks. "Don't even think about it."
He begins to stagger forward. A single drop of blood falls from his murderous hands. Fear trickles up my spine and whispers though my ears, a vertiginous effect registering in my body. There is nothing to do, no escape. His hand reaches into his back pocket.
Fear rushes inside me as I watch his hand slowly rise from his pocket. I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to- wait. He holds in his hand a locket, and hold it out, inviting me to take it.
My first instinct is that this is some kind of trick. I wait for about a minute, before I slowly step towards him. My heart beats faster with every step I take. Once I'm about a foot away from him, I grab the locket and run into the nearest bedroom.
It looks rather old, like it has been passed down, and is shaped in the shape of a circle. Inside, I see a small picture, but it was hard to make out at first. I squint my eyes and realize I'm in the picture inside the locket, but not only me, harry is too.
Confusion runs rampant throughout my head. Much like Harry in my house. Why'd he give this to me? Why'd he let me get away? I could hear the sounds of Harry taping the shard of glass against the door. With each tap, I felt closer to my death.
Tap.
This is it.
Tap.
I have nothing to live for anymore.
Tap.
I hope it's quick.
Tap.
I don't want to feel anything, but maybe I deserve to.
Tap.
I just want this to be over.
Tap.
Did he ever even love me?
Under the door comes a dark flood of blood. I watch as the blood creeps to my feet. The blood is warm. I reach out and unlock the door. I open the door and almost in slow motion, I watch as Harry's lifeless body falls back as the door opens.
I stand, shocked at the sight of Harry lying in his own blood with the giant shard of glass sticking out of him like a fallen icicle.
His torso is spewing blood. It's like watching his life leave his body. He never looked like the man I once lobed less than he does right now. Laying before me, is nothing but an estranged, psychotic maniac. I will never understand why he did all that he did, and I will never forgive him.
With anger swelling up inside of me, I grab the glass and pull it out of him. On my knees next to his body, I begin littering his body with more stabs. With each thrust, I feel my life coming back to me.
I can live now.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
