Demons |h.s|

|2| The Silence

I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, and all I could feel was the heat. The flames were growing closer and the intensity of it was starting to blister my skin. My pajama shorts were black with ash and my once white shirt was in pieces, barely hanging on my body.

I tried to frantically to get away only to run into more fire and smoke. There seemed to be no end to this everlasting fire. Even though I had never believed in heaven or hell this would be what I would have considered hell to be. Some sort of unescapable prison scaring me practically shitless yet never really doing anything. Just teasing me into insanity.

My throat was raw from crying and screaming repeatedly for help. Fresh tears rolled down my face as I kept trying to scream only to hear cold silence.

This wasn't natural. The quiet was artificial and taunting. Telling me it wasn't real but still just as terrifying. At least if this was real I would be dead after and wouldn't have to live with the memories anymore.

The flames overpowered me causing my knees to shrink to the ground with a loud sob that made my body shake. "Someone help! Please" my voice was week but the last word came out as barely a whisper.

The only sound I could hear were my cries as the fire continued to grow in silence. "You're worthless. Damaged. Broken. Who would ever love you?" the sudden voice was strong and filled with power. "Your own family couldn't handle the pain of calling you their daughter. They had to drink away the thought of you like you try to drink away the memory of them"

The taunting sound quickly registered as the very man who had caused me countless night of tears and hundreds of dollars in therapy and my head suddenly became lighter just thinking about him and the sadistic past he put me through. The fire was raging on and the house I was in was starting to fall apart at the seams. Wood was crashing down from the celling trapping me against a wall "Poor little Amber. No one will hear you scream. No one can protect you from me."

It seemed like a life time had passed with me bawling on the floor . All I had heard was his mechanical laugh and my ugly sobs. The snicker that made my stomach implode and my vision go blurry. My hands were solidly placed over my ears and my body was rocking back and forth trying to block out who I had been running from for most of my life.

"Honey you should know you can't get rid of me. I will haunt you for the rest of your shitty little life. You were privileged compared to what I'm going to put you threw darling, and I'm going to enjoy watching you beg me for death."

•••••••••••••••••••

I woke up with his laughter still ringing in my ears. Memories were often too much for me yet when I slept they found a way to force themselves in.

Unlike the fire I could tell the screams and tears were real. Thankfully I'm the only one who lives on this floor. Apparently I'm a 'handful' to put up with so my neighbor moved out last winter. I guess people can't be bothered with my petty problems. Nothing new.

Wiping my eyes with the back of my sweater sleeves I heaved myself off the cool floor and into the kitchen. Having a bed and other furniture was completely pointless if I preferred to sleep on the floor. Yet it seemed of the upmost of importance to Mrs.Langly that I try to live like the 'civilized' people in this town and that my harsh ways were no longer needed.

She told me I was free, that I can live however I choose, but I feel just as trapped as before. He haunts my nights and is the reason I wake up screaming. I can't sleep in a bed anymore because of him because the only times in the past that I was allowed the comfort of a bed was after he used me. This wasn't even out of pity, it was only because he was too spent to haul me back to the storage closet he called a room. He could never feel remorse at the fact that he repeatedly forced himself onto me.