s k i n s

CINQ

SHE COULD STILL FEEL THE COOLNESS OF THE METAL. 

Against bruised skin and words she wished she had said to him. 

Toying with the knife in her hand you'd think she would have given up already and killed herself. 

But she didn't, and she doesn't know why she sees the break of dawn in her vision.

She only knows that she must follow its light, out of the dark 

. . . 

He'd be back in a few hours and then I'd try to do it. 

I'd try to leave. 

But I know he'd follow me, so I have to kill him. 

Slit his throat. 

Then I'll leave, and go for help and find anyone to help me. 

I close my eyes and it's no different behind closed lids, I still have the nightmares in my head. 

And though I have blocked out a lot of what's happened I still know him by his eyes. 

And I still see them in dreams, as if they're feeding on me.

Like flames. 

Eating everything up inside of me whole. 

And if I don't leave know, all that will be left of me is ashes. 

I shudder and put the knife back in its place, my hands and feet are freezing, I would put on my socks but they're drenched in the water leaking from the ceiling. 

I have nothing to eat and my throat is dry from vomiting whatever was left in my stomach. 

And then I'm thinking of what my life was like before this. 

I remember dancing and music and the depression the paranoia and the drinking. 

All of its hazy after my head being bashed in so many times. 

And I'd shut down that part of myself. The part that feels. Because I don't want to, I don't want to feel the pain or hot tears or the sickness in my chest that swells every time I realize that if I don't succeed tonight he'll probably finally kill me. 

I'm more of a pain then alive than dead. 

My hands shake as I huddle into a corner, joints stiff and arms aching. I need to go. I need to leave. 

And I'll be free soon. 

. . . 

I'm wide awake and listening for anything, any noise of him but everything is silent for hours.

My arms screaming in pain.

 I feel as if someone has ripped something out of my chest and just let it bleed. 

With shaking hands I go over what I'm gonna do when he comes. 

I need to catch him off guard and possibly try as little as possible for him to injure myself as I kill him. 

It's the only way, and I won't feel a bit bad for doing it either. 

Bastard has what's coming to him. 

. . . 

I hear a shift in front of me and my eyes fly open to see the door opening, I immediately stand up as he puts the key around his neck again. His eyes meet mine in a moment and I muster everything I have left in me. 

I look around the last time at this place, this horrible nightmare. 

Bare wet walls, a single mattress and the blood and vomit coated floor I've been lying on for two years. 

I look him up and down. No weapon this time. 

 And then he says, "I know you have a knife." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." I say choking on the words, the weaker he sees me the better this will be. 

"Don't lie to me bitch, I came here with a knife, red handle, seen it before?" 

"Nope, still don't know what you mean." 

My hand reaches for it, I'd already had it open to skip a step, it'd been poking into my skin for hours but it only fed the fiery rage in my veins to hurt him. 

"Alright, if you don't want to give me the knife willingly then I guess I'll just have to search you for it." 

My fist clenches and the knife is behind my back, ready to meet flesh. 

"You wouldn't." I say and he takes the bait, coming closer and closer, my eyes locked onto the key on his neck. 

My freedom.

Lies on the neck of a m o n s t e r 

His hand meets my waist and I whip the knife from behind my back but I miss his throat and meet shoulder instead, he falls to the floor and I rip the key from his neck, but before I leave I plunge the knife into the side of his stomach, taking a step away I feel something grab my hair and I shove the key into my mouth as I'm thrown to the floor. 

Head banging. "Where do you think you're going." Clutching his side I get up as fast as I can and shove him to the floor, I run to the door and hear a clicking sound. 

I shove the door open as tears stream down my face. 

I scream as I'm kicked forward falling into something, I scramble up and look behind me to see him only a few feet away. Eyes crazed as if hungry. My vision blurry as I struggle to get up, and my eyes catch on a set of stairs that I run up. His footsteps pounding behind me like warning bells as I scream. The house filled with flickering lights and chipped wallpaper, pictures on the floor and doors swinging open as I turn down a hallway, the sound of him so close to me sending me faster and faster. My breathing heavy and I clamp a hand over my mouth. 

There are no windows and I race up another set of stairs. My bottom lip quivering from a steady stream of tears streaming down my cheeks.

My whole body screaming in pain as I meet a door. Relief floods through me when it opens revealing an open space filled with trash. My eye wandering around for anywhere to escape. 

Nothing, I see nothing. Bird cages hanging from the ceiling as the smell of the house sends bike up my throat that I choke down. 

Towers of newspapers and magazines and utter garbage lay around the room as I maneuver around. 

And suddenly he flies around  corner limping. 

And suddenly a fist meets my jaw and I stumble into a pile of papers and I crawl away from him. He nears me a moment later and I kick him where he is still bleeding and he screams from the pain. I knock over papers and whatever else is in here but my eyes meet a door. I race towards it as fast as I can, swearing when my knee bangs into something I reach the door a second later and throw it open with ease, and then I'm out. A warm wind meeting my skin as I take in a deep breath. 

I look behind me one more time to see him lying on the floor. A mass of black and red. Unflinching. 

And then I'm running as fast as I can into the darkness beyond, away from the terrors inside that house. 

I'm free.