The soft tick of the clock caused your dull headache to stir, every click of the hands rang throughout the concrete walled room, sounding around in an endless echo.
She could no longer feel herself as the bruises along her broken body tore her. It tore her to pieces, the pain so strong it felt like you were being stabbed from the inside out.
Her dark hair was messed, pain erupting from where her brown roots began. With nothing but her undergarments left on her bare skin, showing the countless bruises inflicted on her from the cruel man's men.
Her delicate, toned skin was littered with red and purple. Flesh cut open from where knives sliced through her, burning slits from where blood oozed out like a dark toxic slime.
She could feel pain unbearable, aching over the numerous gifts they gave her. She now felt numb. Numb of life, of death, of pain, of everything. She was completely numbed in pain, pain overriding any thought, any action, all emotion. It hurt, hurt to the point that she couldn't deal with anymore, so she shut off.
Like a broken computer she shut off, ridding her self of any and everything, thoughts floating around in her brain like ghosts, only there to haunt her torn being.
Her heart felt like it's beating flesh had been torn apart, her lungs felt clogged and if someone drowned her in an endless peril. Her eyes burned and tears welled. But she wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry. All left of her was gone.
She lost her precious humanity.
She questioned her existence. She wasn't gonna commit suicide. No. When she questioned her existence, she questioned why it all turned out like this, why she turned out like this.
She was driven down a path of self loathing from that time out.
She felt her life fall apart before her eyes like broken glass shattering off a mirror. Like gravity pulling on things to earth, she was dragged down, to a land where she drowned, where her lungs clogged and burned, begging to be free of their eternal torment. Where her eyes shed no tears and her body was was shackled in unseen shadows, past and present pulling her down to meet their same wrath all once again.
It was an endless cycle of pain and hurt, she could never escape it, she knew that now.
Her only choice left, was to become it.
To be continued.....
A/C: sry this is short, skl kept me busy and inspiration left me. Something happened td which brought up the cause for me to vent. What more perfect then to exert it on my next chapters right?
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Torn (btsxreader)
RomanceA hand gripped your arm. "Where are you going angel face" He asked his sweet voice finding your ears again. Though it sweet it was uttered in displease. "Home" you said blunt, ripping you arm from his grasp. "You'll never get away from us" he laug...
