Fear Is The Mind Killer

Count me out

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WARNING: this May not be for everyone!

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"What a shame that the girl who once believed in fairy tales and magic had to be struck by reality with demons in her mind and the fear of never being loved."

Dusty's p.o.v

I shook as his icy blue eyes stared into my forest green ones, his rough hand caressed my cheek in a way that frightened me, but he knew... He knew I wasn't emotionally, mentally or physically strong enough to rid myself of this situation. He had known for years that I was incapable of self protection. He knew I would keep my mouth shut about everything that would happen in this room.

His fake loving smile slowly turned into an evil smile that made my insides turn, it showed his teeth, that were yellowing from the past year of heavy smoking, and I could smell the cigarettes and the liquor on him. It had been this way since my step-brother died, it devastated the whole family. But I never could've imagined it would make my life this way.

At times I get selfish, and I hate him for getting mixed up with the friends he had, because if he could've just stayed away from them, or told them no, he would still be here. I would not be getting tortured by the man I grew to love as my own father. I would not wake up every morning fearing that today might be the day I die. And other times, I feel guilty for thinking that way . I know it wasn't his fault. He is not the one that held a gun to his own head, and I know he would've taken back every choice he ever made to still be alive.

I wonder if he's looking down on us now, cursing at his father for touching me the way he does, or speaking to me in such a violent manner. I wonder if he wishes he could take himself back to that night, and stop all of this.

"Dusty... baby, stop shaking. I love you. You know I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't show you that I did."

Do you ever wonder what the devil might sound like? Whenever I hear his voice, I imagine him as the devil. That's what the devil sounds like to me.

I didn't have time to respond before his cracked lips met my own. I never imagined kissing this way. I always hoped it would be delicate, sweet, and soft and that I would feel sparks. you know, the kind you read about or see in movies. But I knew now that after feeling his chapped lips on mine, I would never be able to get a kiss like that. I would never be able to kiss another man, without the images of him inside my brain.

His hands ran down my body, as I began to shake violently. I wanted more than anything for my mother to hear what was going on. To get out of bed, and come rescue her daughter. But, I knew all too well that it would never happen. Even if she managed to get out of bed, she'd never be able to hear what's going on, and he knew that. The basement was sound proof, due to my step-brother being in a band when he was still alive. He would drag me down to the basement, every day after work and "show me how much he loved me", and if I fought against it, I'd be left with bruises from head to toe.

He frightened me too much for me to say anything to anyone, so nobody at school knew. In fact, I avoid every body in my school, in fear that they'll find out and think I'm revolting and sick. But I'm not, he is, and I don't think they'd understand that....

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This may not be for everyone to read! I understand that! But PLEASE no hate! I hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments and let me know :)

Kisses ! :* bye!