Secrets.

Unforgettable

Chapter 13 – Unforgettable.

   “You are nothing! You are just some ugly, stupid child that ruined my life. You are worthless! I wish that I had never given birth to an ungrateful selfish bitch like you! They left me because of you! You fucking whore!” she spat. I watched as she stormed around the kitchen. She picked up the little egg timer off of the table. It was the one she’d bought three weeks before, despite having five more scattered around the house. It had three little geese on a patch of grass on top of a bluish-green basket and a little blue arrow that would wind its way around the timer. As expected, the little timer flew against the wall. It made a little ‘ding’ as it made contact and two goose heads snapped off. Throughout the litany of abuse that streamed out of her mouth, my eyes kept wandering towards the poor heads that had been separated from their shattered base.

   Their beaks were sealed shut, and their bell was broken; they had no way to cry out, their final cry being a pathetic ‘ding’.

   I remember wondering what those geese must have felt like, if they felt at all.

   She hadn’t been satisfied with their murder. It was never enough.

   I felt as hollow and broken as the geese were as I raced around the kitchen table, down the hall and into bedroom, pressing my bed and all my weight against the door. I waited until the screaming had abided, for the knife to be returned to the drawer and for her shouts to turn into heavy sobs.

   As awful as I had felt then, this hurt more. Way more.

   Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to have your soul ripped away from you through two small puncture marks? No? Well, it felt like hell. It didn’t feel as if he was just simply sucking out a couple of gallons of blood - THAT I could have coped with. My mind raced back to that story I’d read where the heroine Elena yanked a malach out of Damon, prising it out from a bee-sting sized hole. I had nothing else to compare this with. It hurt so much that I couldn’t scream. It was like when you’re drowning in a dream; you scream out for somebody to hear you but the water engulfs your voice. I was as useless as those damn geese on the timer after breaking their necks and bell.

   I hated him. I hated this. I hated not having control over what was going on.

   I tried to fight. I was wrestling with him to free my arm, trying to kick out, but the very bed that I’d had found so much comfort in was down making all my efforts futile. Tears burned in my eyes and felt like lava as they rolled down my cheeks. My chest heaved only to cause more pain as his arms  tightened painfully around me. I was trembling all over and black spots were beginning to appear in front of my eyes. I clenched my eyes shut, wishing more than anything that I’d been left with some sort of alcoholic buzz.

   My heart clenched. Please, please don’t let Damon come home yet, I begged silently in my head. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being hurt thanks to me. I had brought this monster into his home. Our home. My eyes stung, even thinking about what could happen if he came home to this. Nate would kill him, and there would be no way I could protect him. I hated myself, there and then. Everything, EVERYTHING she had told me was true. I was useless, worthless, and all I was good for was ruining the lives of everyone who dared get close to me. I was worse than her, worse than Nate. I was an evil, selfish bitch who deserved to die.

   “I deserve this. This is all my fault. I’ve hurt so many people. I deserve pain. More than this. I am an evil, evil person; she was right all along,” I chanted silently, disgusted at myself. I did this, I brought this on myself. Now I’d pay the price.

    I stopped attempting to fight Nate off. All of this fighting had been a mistake, and only he could erase the damage I had done. Black spot danced in my vision as he mauled my throat. Soon, I could hardly feel it throbbing. I knew, then, that it was basically done; my wounds were probably too severe to ever heal. I was going to die in Damon’s bed. A shallow sigh escaped my lips. It smelt slightly of him, the room though was filled with the scent of my coppery blood.