Tomorra POV
I talked to dad last night. Death let me see him one more time. I told him everything, that it was me who made the phone call and not mum and I begged for his forgiveness, which he gave willing. I told dad where I was and what was happening, I asked him not to leave me alone because now I have no one but he asked death if he could stay but he just shock his head. So we talked for a while and he told me not to worry because he loves me no matter what and then I did the hardest thing I could ever do. I let my dad go.
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I drifted back into conscience only to be surrounded purple hazy. I felt myself slipping once more.
No, not again but I'm already gone.
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"No! Mum, please stop. AAAAHHHHHH!" I screamed in pain. I don't know how much more I can take. With every hit I feel my bones crack under the force of the hockey stick. I feel like I should give up, maybe I should just let go. Maybe…Maybe I should just die like she’s telling me to do. The whish off the air hit me after the stick collides with my head.
“You little bitch fucked everything, you killed him!” she’s screaming at me know. I killed my dad, I killed my dad. I cry in terror and guilt. It was my fault. I’m slipping away to an Abyss or nothingness. No dad there. I’m gonna burn in hell while he rests in heaven.
No! We are not giving in to these poor excuses for a mother. Screamed my twin. Give me control.
Another blow only she hits me in the side. I start coughing up blood. Do it.
And then I blacked out.
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I’m sitting in the police station. People are walking around me in blue uniforms with guns strapped to their waists. I’m at an open desk and an officer is asking me questions about what happened.
“I don’t know,” I say “I blacked out”
“Not according to your mother” he says scratching his shinny head “She made a report that it was you who attacked her” he pulls out photos from a vanilla envelope and slides them across the table. They are of my mother. Her face is broken and bloodied. Her upper lip is swollen and a bluish colour, there are yellow bruises forming around her throat shaped like two hands. Under them there were pictures of me. I was on a bed asleep, not a scratch on me.
That’s not possible…… but it is. I don’t look harmed at all. My body healed and recovered unlike my mothers. I don’t know what happened but I know I did that to her, my twin did that to her. I looked up from the photos and past the officer to a small room. The curtains were drawn and the door was locked but I knew she was behind there, saying how evil I was. I stood up from my sit and started walking towards the room.
“Hey stop where you are” but I don’t listen. She’s lying to them and they need to know. I run to the door and push it opened. She’s sitting in a chair crying telling a women in a suit about what I did,, but it wasn’t me, I was my twin. She stops when she sees me with a fake look of fear. She screams and the woman in the suit stands and holds her hands up telling me to calm down and that bitch is smiling. I snap and lose control but this time I stay present. I feel the cold ripping inside my head as she comes out. I sense the shift in power as I become a knew person. My body lunges forward at her and wraps its hands around her neck.
“I should have finished what I started” but the voice isn’t mine. Its older someway. It’s filled with power. Her face is turning blue and she’s gripping my hands. There’s real terror in her eyes know and it fills me with joy.
Tomorra stop. I look up into the eyes of my dad and death. Dad looks disappointed in me and death looks sad.
What am I doing? “Daddy? Daddy I’m so sorry” and then I let go. My twin comes back inside and I drop to the ground in sobs.
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There are voices around me. I can feel my skin blistering from the heat. Oh my god, the memory. I start shaking from the memory and tears are running from my eyes. That’s not me anymore!
“She’s had enough Atropos leave her be.” Speaks a male voice
“No, she must relive it all to understand life at its cruellest” her voice is familiar but I can’t recall it because once again I’m falling into the darkness of yet another terrifying memory of mine.
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“Tomorra you need to talk to Me.” said Doctor Cutson. I’m sitting on a white bed in a white and lime green room. She is in a chair across from me with a note pad and pen. She is wearing a panicle black dress and a white cot over top with her brown hair up in a messy bun. She taps her pen on the pad and pears over her glasses to look at me. I just look into the distance ignoring her presences. She huffs in frustration and walks away from me. “I’ll be back here latter”
I’m half asleep by the time she comes back. My eyes are shut and I can hear her fiddling around with something metal. She wonders why I don’t talk anymore. Well, its cause she called me crazy. I told her about my twin, my other half. I told her about death and my dad, and I heard her tell another doctor I was insane, but I’m not insane. I know what I know they just don’t believe me. I hear the clicking of heels on the ground until they stop next to my bed. I don’t move.
“Uh, I’m sorry Tomorra but I’ve been told that your time ran out a long time ago.” I feel and stinging in my arm and the quick taste of metal in my mouth. My shot shoot open and I grab the needle from her hand. She looks shock when I stab her in the throat with the end and push the remaining liquid out. My hand is trembling as I let go of the needle. I can feel my system shutting down quickly, but the Doctor had more of the stuff then I did. She’s on the ground with white bubbles coming out of her mouth. Bile rushes up my throat and I’m sick everywhere.
“I’m sorry” I whisper to her lifeless body and wait for death to collect her soul, but he never came.
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I’m in the complex crying. Banging on the door for anyone to help me. Beside the door a slot opens and a tray of food comes through it, I try to stick my hand in it to keep it open but when I go to do so it’s like there isn’t even a opening in the wall. No more Doctors now, just me and these four walls.
Forever.
YOU ARE READING
The Secrets of Death
Teen FictionI know Death, for I have stared him in the eye. He comes to me in my dreams. He is my Guardian, but holds no similarities as that of a Guardian angel. He is not my friend, nor my foe, but walks hand in hand with my enemies. Fate and Destiny, are no...