Nothing.

Surviving in the Shadows

Quick edit: I just wanted to dedicate this chapter to my best friend (WolfOfTheNorth) Haley. She has always been an inspiration to keep writing, and is one of those amazing people who excel at everything they do, especially helping others when they really need it. Thank you, go check out some of her books and tell her how amazing she is :)

Look, I'm not here to give you a sob story. It's not who I am. I don't need you to be upset for me. I don't need anyone. Well, that is a lie. I do need one person, but don't think I'm so soft and gushy. This isn't a love story, this isn't a story where I find the man of my dreams and run off into a land of marriage and kids. This is reality.

I snarled at him, my bleeding heart sinking deeper into the pit of her stomach with every passing second. 

"You bastard!" I shrieked, the tears already beginning to flood my eyes with a foggy vision of rain.

"Excuse me?!" He retaliated, leering over the top of his knife, carefully aimed at my neck; I could feel the  blood already dribbling down my collar bones.

"You heard me!" I choked out, partially from fear and partially from pain. I pulled back my arm to the wall and released it into his malnutritioned gut, his large form plummeting to the ground with a thud. My life flashed before my eyes in a split second, my legs already running off in the opposite direction, since it knew better; obviously. This was no time to wait and watch. I turned my head back around to see the damage I had cost, what I was leaving behind, hoping to leave behind. I expected to see him behind me, chasing with full fury and vexation, or hear the clatter of a knife bouncing off the ground, but there was nothing. It was.. Silent. For the first time in months, it was silent. Completely silent. Too silent. A blood thirsty war cry ripped through the air, shattering my sanity within seconds. That was one of two things; either him, or an army of the undead. I'd rather the undead. 

There was nothing.. Hell, there is nothing. No happiness. No joy. No little mints waiting for me on the pillow named life. Nothing but pain and misery in this hut I called a house. His face is everywhere, the sweet bitterness of his cologne still lingering in the air. I thrusted my fist into the coffee table, leaving a slight dent in the stained wood; which was already rotting. "I don't need you." I huffed under her breath, silent tears streaming down my cheeks, falling on to the table soon after. "Or Amber.. That slut.. Fuck them, right?" I muttered, spitting down at the picture I once loved. The same picture may I remind you that I held close to my chest those late nights he only returned in the morning, out of breath and flustered. Atleast I finally know why. I shook off the thoughts and grabbed the tiny camo sinch sack that rested on our...my bed, and began to stuff it with clothing.  

"I don't need anyone!" I yelled, slamming my last article of clothing into my bag, pulling the two black strings to shut the bag; almost snapping them in the process. I simply laughed, that horribly pained and maniacal laughter fueled by vexation and remourse, the one that you swore wasn't you, it had to be some maniacal serial killer within you. I could feel the globs of glue that held together my broken glass of sanity and hope dribbling off into nothingness. Hope was all I needed, it's all anyone needed, and I barely retained that. I turned around and kicked the leg of the coffee table and watched it crumble, my last stand, my last everything having to involve him, or this house. No, I'm not coming back. Ever. I have all I need, right here, in my-- The weight on my back was suddenly lifted, a soft snicker coming from behind me. 

"Done with your tantrum?" He mocked me, twirling my bag on his finger, his form towering over mine. In one hand was the bag, another a lighter. My lighter. The same one I got from my dad, three years ago. My dad disappeared two years ago. That was all I had to remember him by. That is MY lighter. Mine You couldn't pay me to give it to you. There was no price on that piece of metal and flint held together by a few rusted clamps and bolts, because there's no price on a memory. 

"Give it." I kept my cool, though I couldnt help but grit my teeth and clench my fists, since I was in the presence of an enemy. I lunged forwards, but he only moved to the side so I ran into the bed, and already flicked the top of the lighter open, his thumb resting on the flint wheel. 

"Mm.. Tempting offer, but sorry babe, no. I suppose I could give you this bag, and your lighter back, for one thing." He smirked, refrencing to something only I knew... He looked down to my toes then flicked his eyes back up, his smirk only widening. "C'mon, you know you want too." 

"No, as a matter of fact.." I cut myself off and lunged at him from behind, grabbing my pack. Though, I underestimated his grip and ended up snapping back into him; he just smiled. 

"C'mon, stop resisting me, love. I know exactly what you are thinking, and I let you get away. I wanted to get you back here, to my cave, for my bidding. I knew you would figure out, who didn't? It was so obvious, I'm surprised you didn't figure out sooner." He said with a triumphant sneer, his white teeth in a large cocky smile, like it always was when he won. 

"Give it, prick." I grunted, sick with his games. "You aren't funny, this isn't funny, give me back my bag." I restated, my arms beginning to lock up from not being able to sock him right where it hurt.I know this is wrong, but I can't help but want this. I wanted to hear his cries, my eyes desiring to just glimpse at him crumbled over in the corner, sobbing. Whinning and whimpering, knowing exactly what he did. I wanted someone to hurt him like he hurt me.. And hell, I'm not waiting any longer. I jumped up and snagged the back back, the ball of my knee rising into his crotch, gaining a loud whine from him. I swiveled around quickly so my foot just met his shin, another cry coming from him. He fell to the ground with a groan of pain, still holding my lighter. "Give it." I snarled into his ear, knowing I couldn't pry the tiny container from his fingers unless they were cold. 

A pained laughter only came from him, the smirk still rising to his face despite the mass amounts of pain he felt. His finger rolled over the top of the flint wheel, the sparks causing the lighter to ignite, which he then proceded to  throw at my bag. It caught fire with a roaring blaze, the cotton fabric easy fuel for the fire to burn up hungrily. The smell of singed and burning seams filled the air, removing the once peacefull and still atmosphere with heat and violence. What could I do?! What can I do?!

I panicked.. I needed to leave. He was down. I can grab my lighter.  I can. I will. I will. I plunged my hand into the smouldering bag, only to be met with the even worse smell of seared flesh.. My mind flashed back to the late night stories of holocaust survivors, and imagined this was what it was like.. All day, everyday.

Wrapping my ash covered fingers around the lighter, I shut the cap and ran with it in my hands, completely ignoring the pain I felt there. "Im fine. You are fine. Run. Run. Keep running." The voice of reason rang in my head, the night having just begun.

I could hear them.. All of them.. Everywhere.. Around me.. I had ran for what seemed like hours, an eternity of fleeing, until there was a shape in the blank night. It was something, anything was fine. I knelt down beside it, saying a few last minute prayers. "God, please let this be some old car with no one in it. Please let me survive for another night, or end this now. Thank you, love you." I whispered before placing my hand to my forehead, then heart, then both my shoulders, ending my prayer. I don't know why I feet like this. Why I want to die. But hey, it could be better than what I have now, right? I stood up and slid my hand under the covered handle and gently pulled it towards myself, only to hear a small click. It opened. I screamed with the utter most joy in my mind, even a soft squeel leaked out into the air. "Yes! Yes!" I rejoiced under my breath, climbing into the back seat of the truck. It was.. Warm? The leather seats weren't ripped into, the windows weren't smashed..

The engine.. Was still on.. I heard the soft click of a button, then a louder thud of all the locks in the car shutting, though the lights in the car still remained off. I gulped silently, looking over to the driver's seat and seeing two bright aqua eyes stare back. 

"Evening."