My skull produces a fine thudding noise as it softly collides with the rusty, metal walls of this tin can on wheels.
A cascade of giggles cuts through the thick silence that had been present since the journey began. "Boink, boink, huehuehuehuehue" he trills, though the sound could easily have been confused for the last wheeze of a dying donkey. Nails caressing the surface of a chalk board would be a more pleasing sound.
"WAKE UP DUMB ASS"
The shriek of an alarm clock shoots through one ear and out the other. A beam of light enters my eyeball. A groan escapes my lips as I blindly search for something, anything to save me from this torture. Soft cotton graces my fingers as I flail about; I grasp it and fling it above my head and just as I do so, a door is kicked open with an almighty creak
"REAGAN, GET THE FUCK UP"
I look up and see a flustered, yet familiar face, my mother. She stands there, cradling a rolling pin in her arms as she waits for me.
I sit there, not moving a muscle, remembering what I had heard in wild life documentaries about not angering short tempered mammals.
This goes on for about a minute before she begins to once again berate me. I flinch backwards, startled by the noise, my mind struggling to believe that David Attenborough could have lied to me.
I slowly drag myself away from the warmth of my bed, tendrils of heat struggling to cling to me, my mother leaves the room just as fast.
The floor boards groan underneath my weight as I close the distance between me and the mirror. I stand there half expecting it to shatter in front of me. Once over the initial shock of it not doing so, I begin the self judgement of my reflection.
A rather plain looking face shadowed by untamed wisps of dark brown hair. A set of Hazel eyes peer back at me with a look of disappointment, though without even looking at my reflection I am fully aware that I'm still as ugly as I was the day before, so these feelings of disappointment and self hatred are quite unwarrented.
I feel a slight breeze tickle my shoulder. Abruptly turning around, I come face to face with an undecorated wall and a bed, nothing unusual. I feel the breeze again, no, not a breeze, it felt to heavy to be a waft of wind;It felt like finger tips brushing against my bare skin. A sharp stinging sensation clouds my face. I swiftly bring my hand up in pain, shielding my eyes.
The sound of an engine fills my ears once again, I bring my hand down slowly as I realise that I'm still trapped, still chained to the walls of this rusting van and that I'd spent one of my few moments of peace lost in a sea of hatred for myself.
How pathetic.
YOU ARE READING
Hush
Horror"Hush now dear" his voice echoed as the sound collided against the walls of the dingy backroom that I had called home for the past few weeks of my life *TRIGGER WARNINGS * *RAPE *SELF HARM Please don't reproduce this story unless permission is grant...
