Twisted Darkness

Chapter three

From my seat on the kitchen floor, I saw that it was five thirty, in the morning! That only made me cry harder, for I knew that I couldn't face the day, what with my already fragile state. Slowly I dragged myself up from the floor; my stomach groaned in response to my movement, and I grimaced. I gripped the counter guiding myself to the fridge.

" Honey, I'm heading off to work. Remember you need to leave for school in an hour. Honey, are you okay? You look sick and upset."

" No, I'm not okay. What made you think that I was? It's not like I'm all giddy and happy. I had another nightmare about my demonic past. I look terrible and feel worse!"

"Lelana! What have I told you about talking about your past? You know I despise it when you do that,so why do you do it? You speak of it as if it had happened a hundred years ago... Have you been taking you meds like you should?"

" You don't understand, no one does! You and everyone else will never understand my past... I don't even know why I confide in you anymore! When I do tell you, you tell me that I need to go see a psycatrist, and they give me a bunch of medicine to take. No! Why would I take something that doesn't even help me? I will never take those a cursed pills, ever!"

" How would you know that they don't work when you won't take them like your supposed to? All you ever do is take them for three days every month and say that they don't work! You know what your problem is, you give up too easily! That's why your so misareble all the time, you have no friends and you have no real family! I'm not even your real mom."

"What do you mean I have no family? If you aren't my mom then why do you care about me so much that you send me to get put on anxiety medicine, huh?"

"Ugh! Lelana, I don't have time for your petty childishness. I'm already late for work because you would't stop arguing with me!"

Mom furiously snatched up her key and stomped out the front door, slamming it behind her. My sight had gone black and there was the sound of breaking glass. Sharp pain ran up my tense arm, and warm, sticky liquid runs through my fingers. Every drop that hits the floor, is like a cannon going off in a valley. The dripping echoes in my ear, ignighting a fire inside of me. Crashing and shattering, is all I hear. Seeing nothing, Is tumble about blindly in raged stupor.

Destroying everything I felt, and not being in control of my body, became the epitome of my destruction. Surly I would be under house arrest for the rest of my life, if I really am demolishing the house piece by piece. Please be a fantasy, I whispered to myself. Being in ones body, but having no control over it, is not the most pleasant feeling... believe me this is only one of many times this has happened.

Something hard and metal rests in my hands, whilst I am still blinded by rage toward the beast I call my mother. Ambling forward to the garage, a wicked smile plays across my lips, a smile that I haven't seen in ages. Upon my arrival in the garage, I find mom's most most expensive car and get in. Before long I was peeling out of our drive way, heading down some abandoned back road, going eighty miles per hour. Every corner I come across is a steep cliff just waiting to eat me alive. I took a turn too sharp and ran headlong into a pine tree.

Scrambling out of the car, I see smoke rising from the hood. A cackle escapes my smirking lips, as my shimmering eyes take in the lovely sight. I begin to walk away, glimpsing back only to see the car in flames. Joyously laughing I continue on my way to nowhere. After another few feet I became over ran by dissiness, and feel flat to the ground. Hasy darkness surrounded me, filling my lungs with tar, consuming me and suffocating me. The sky became dark and I could no longer hold my own against the black, so I give in and let it take me.

Consciousness faded away slowly. All the while I imagined that this is what death felt like. Dark, dreary and peaceful once one stops fighting it and gives in. Inviting, one may say that you must be crazy to feel that way, but I do. Death is an old friend to me... but why do I feel so warm... I only felt this warm when I still hunted dreamwalkers. When I comanded my army of demons to bring them to my feet so that I could feast upon them. Blackness completely consumed me, and my consciousness had vanished, my rage has ended, without my knowing what I truly did.