The yellow grass of the park was littered with half-eaten snacks, coke and sprite tin cans, and tinfoil. Weeds dominated and moth grew between the cracks of the rubber floor. The only play equipment in the park was an old rusty steel slide with its wooden ladder falling apart, thus posing as a safety hazard for the children who used it, and one steel swing that swung back and forth, urged by the wind. The silence was piercing and the frigid wind penetrated me to the bone, as I waited tensely for the writer's arrival.
"Alisa, what a pleasure" A disembodied voice broke the silence
I whirled around and sure enough, the writer stood slacken in front of me, hands in his pockets, exposing a smirk. He wore a slim flashy silver suit and a black tie.
"Let's cut to the chase," I said sternly
"Ok," he nodded and smiled crookedly.
"Don't harm my family?" I said flatly
"I'm in control here. I pull the strings."
"Your not in control!, I am not your damn character! Now listen to me moron!" I yelled
"And why should I listen to you?" he asked in hoarsely
I reached into my sock and pulled out a knife and held it in my shaking hand
"Or I'll kill myself and you won't write shit!" I threatened "You won't let me die, will you?"
He smiled. "Your bluffing".
"Try me" I stammered. I pulled up my left sleeve and held my left arm firm in front of him. I breathed deeply and shut my eyes briefly. I took the knife and punctured the vein. I felt a wave of sharp pain wash over my body. I shut my eyes tight and took a deep, shaky breath. I cut firmly across the vein.
"Stop!" he yelled, "I won't harm or even touch your family". I saw him blearily rush to me, tear a strip of cloth off his suit and felt pressure being applied on my left wrist. I felt light headed and held on to the writer's arm for support. Then, pitch black.
I squinted and caught a glimpse of a white rough above me. Where the hell was I? I tilted my head weekly to the side. The hell? I saw trees rushing past me. I was in the backseat of a vehicle going full speed. Where? I had no idea.
"Stop, Stop, stop!" I shouted. My voice tremulous.
"Get me out of here!" I pleaded "Where the hell are you taking me?!"
No response.
"Answer! Answer me!".
Still no response.
I pushed myself up gasping. I desperately and repeatedly swung my fist shakily against the window but I didn't have enough strength, not enough force to break it. I looked at my left hand, it was drenched in blood.
"It's no use". The writer's voice rang in my head.
The car halted and I flew out of my seat and onto the floor. I felt disoriented once again and passed out seconds later.
YOU ARE READING
Where it all began ("Bend or Break" Book 1)
FanfictionAlisa Clarke is innocent and pure. However, she is ignorant of the shadowed and bleak realities of the town she lives in. On the other hand, Andrea Davis is a victim of the town's shadows. She is a victim of abuse and is impulsive and suicidal becau...
