Alisa's Death

Time For School

In a distance there were footsteps rushing towards her slamming down onto the pavement along with the perfect play of strained breathing. She did not make the effort to make it be known she was hiding beneath the staircase, it was dusted and the smell of mold was strong. Into her field of vision came a very familiar face but it was panicked. Alisa’s usually calm somewhat composed face was one of sheer terror, she was struggling to breathe and looking for a place to hide. Suddenly from the direction she had ran from came another, he was recognizable too. Yes, his face was all too familiar. There was something bright in his hands that seemed to glimmer beautifully in the few rays of weak light they had. Still she watched from behind the staircase, the scene looked so solemn that she didn’t dare disrupt it.

“You know,” he spoke in this curt voice. “I loved you.”

“Please don’t,” she said, it came out as a strangled plea. The tone surprised her, Alisa never sounded more vulnerable. The sound was almost alien in her ears.

“I have to,” he said in an acidic tone. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” She was trying to look for a way out while stalling him, her eyes searching frantically for any way out but the sad truth this was a dead end or she would have walked away from the scene herself. Her brown eyes were consumed by the enemy we all called fear, her thick brown hair was a tangled mess and there were slight bruises on her face and down her exposed arms. She couldn’t see his face but knew his eyes would be cold, they had always reminded her of ice but she had never mentioned it. His mop of blond hair looked slightly winded and his thin frame was crouched like that of a predictor mocking his prey. The way he managed to maintain that ego of his was astounding, she was about to chuckled darkly but realized that this was not the time to make the slightest noise or she’d be damned. She turned her attention back to the pair, knowing she’s missed much of their conversation lost in thought.

“You don’t have to do this,” she reasoned but without knowing she was backing up into a wall, he knew this and so did she, not that she could word it aloud.

“Oh, but I do,” he sighed. He held her chin in his hand almost lovingly until he raised his free hand and let that sharp and bright object penetrate her stomach. Red dye colored her once white t-shirt. A small gasp escaped her lips, but he didn’t stop there. He continued to stab several times until blood dripped down her chin and onto his hand, the gasps of pain reached her making her want to close her eyes but they refused to look away. He finally struck the last blow twisting the knife this time and she nearly yelled but she was too weak, what came was a strangled cry that died down quick. He let his lips press to her pale ones before letting her fall to the ground. Before she had fallen her eyes had moved to stare directly at her and she could have sworn she saw her standing there for those eyes became lifeless and glass-like.

He stood there and with a sigh turned blood was on his lips making him look even paler than usual. He stared at her and she stared back. “You know,” he sighed. “I know you’re behind the staircase?”

“I know,” she responded her voice calmer than she had though would come out.

“How about you walk out here so I can get a good look at the friend who refused to help?” He wore a grin now, it was lethal.

She sat up panting, her breath just as strangled as that of someone who had ran five miles out in the cold. She turned to stare at the digital clock by the night stand that read it was three in the morning. With a sign she fell to onto her pillow. She had had enough trouble sleeping on her own without these dreams, she nearly laughed. If only they were just dreams but that was wishful thinking because these dreams were memories of the past and what had happened nearly one year ago. There was one way to forget about this for the meantime, she reached for the comfort of her headphones placing them over her ears until the sweet blasting of metal was painfully soothing her thoughts away. Pulling out a book she grabbed a pencil and began to draw what she had drawn for the past eleven and a half months.

When she looked at the clock it was six thirty, school began at seven fifteen. It was six blocks away from where she sat now. She ignored the clock for a bit longer before crawling out of the comfort of her blood red blanket leaving behind the red laptop. She reached for some clothes hoping it was suitable enough and not what she had worn yesterday. It was time for school.