WHITE NOISE

CHAPTER 12

Chapter 12

Five Years Later

✕✕"Why do you hurt yourself so much?" her words were spoken softly, perhaps not meant to be heard, but I heard them. Her tress covered back was just a few steps away from where I stood. I couldn't see her face but I knew what her eyes held. I could feel the longing in her eyes although I couldn't see it, I felt an emotion akin to pain, but I wasn't sure if those were her feelings or just a reflection of my own emotions that I wanted her to feel for me.

"I wish I could take away your pain!!

I wish I could heal your wounds!!" She said.

I could feel tears pricking behind my eyes, "I wish I could remember where my bruises were, sometimes it felt like I have turned into a wound." I said.

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PRESENT

The world spun around me like a whirlwind, as slowly I was losing any sensation in my hands, the tingling feeling has slowly dimmed down into my hands to now becoming cold and numb. My mind had calmed out, although my heartbeat was creating a tattoo on my ribs due to its wild staccato. My lungs felt sore and my vocal chords had been long left scratched and bruised due to my relentless screeching and asking the devil himself to be awake.

I was tied, and he was bleeding himself to death. Is this what he had planned for himself...??.,..what he had planned for me. To be a witness to how his last breath would leave his body...?? So that I would..never again be able to take my own peacefully without bringing to my mind his dying lifeless body??? Was this to be my destiny, to add on to the list of my unfinished pursuits and meaningless moments of that which I accumulated in order to give some kind of meaning to my life?? Would this moment also add itself to my memory so that it stays with me forever...and to haunt me forever??? As much as I felt tempted to see my ruthless captor die in front of my eyes, I would ...never in a million years would be able to get past this, the fact that I am a witness to his death, I will not take this as my destiny. It will either be me saving him, or dying in pursuit of saving him.

With this thought in mind, I caught hold of the ropes that were tied to my hand, and dug my nails deep into my palms so as to draw enough blood that would wet the rope and would make my hands to slip from its noose. Nails dug ruthlessly in my palms as more and more tears fell on my face, not however due to the pain but due to the fear tugging at my chest and my throat of the slow arriving death of my captor, lying torpid at my feet. 

Never had I ever felt a strong need to achieve something in life before this moment in life, and as each moment that took him closer to his death and ultimately to my doom, my attempts at scratching and ruthlessness at my own hands increased so much so that I started screaming at my own ruthless attacks on my palms, finally i felt warm liquid oozing out of my skin and slowly traveling southwards and getting soaked into the rope, which however did not seem to budge and would not let my hands slip from under it.

 I, however was not going to give-up this time and I started swinging and pulling on to it alternatively so much so that my joints at my shoulders started to ache from the constant tugging, with the constant swinging I had gained so much momentum that amid on such swing I jumped and caught hold of the hook that had held the rope.

No sooner had I held the hook, I swung my rope clad hands from above it and jumped down as soon as the rope was free from its hold. I landed on my side and with my hands still bound got on my knees to scoot closer to the bloodied Brandon who still held the knife in his right fist, which tempted me to get hold of it and get free of the ropes, however I had to make sure if my brutal captor was still living. I quickly went for his neck and put my fingers on his pulse at the neck which was weak yet still very much present.

With lightening speed I got hold of the knife and snapped the rope in half, before ripping off his shirt in long thick band and tied it fast over his bleeding hand, which was butchered mercilessly. As soon as this deed was done, I reached for the water cask and dipped my bloodied hands into the water, only at this moment did I realize that my hands where shaking and by this knowledge I took into account that not merely my hands, but my whole body was convulsing due to a particular emotion which my mind could not register either as fear or a feeling of being cold. The blood seeped slowly into the water from my own wounded palms and that which was from Brandon's arm. I jerked back to reality as I heard a faint whoosh of breathing from behind me.

He was alive and I had to make sure that he lives before I finally see to it that I kill him.

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