She who was Heartless

One

They never told you the truth of this world, did they? You were told life brings you challenges and you can get through them easily, right? They never told you about the beatings, the bruises, the fake friends, the lack of family, bullying, near death experiences, and other things that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. I went through hell on this earth and my body is a piece of art that shows my horrid history of the past. My father whipped me, beat me, locked me in a closet, told me I was worthless, and then he stabbed me in the abdomen, and left me for dead. I did get medical attention when I went back home to my mother's after limping all the way there. How I didn't die I will never know. Why did he do such things? I will never know. He was always abusive though, he abused my mother when they were still together.....and when he was alive. What, you thought that after what he did to me that he would get away with it? Sure karma gets people eventually, but it was taking way too long for my father to have pay back, so when I visited him for the last time, when he was asleep in the dead of night, I wanted to see if my father had a heart, considering all of the bad things he had done. I snuck into his room as quietly as possible, and me being in theatre, well it helped me keep quiet while walking up to him. As I crept closer I stepped on a creaky floor board. Shit, what now? What to do? As my father was waking up, I quickly rolled under the bed. Cliche I know, but I didn't want to risk the closet. "Who's there?" My father asked. I quietly smiled. Fool, no killer is going to tell you that they are there or where they are, and if they do it's a dream or movie. "Come out!" Father yelled. I kept still, not moving at all. Father turned on the light of his room, and started searching for me. I could see his perfectly exposed ankle, and slashed at the Achilles heel. Father stumbled and fell down. I crawled out from under the bed and came on top of my father. I wasn't heavy enough to keep him down, so I stabbed both shoulder blades, and the joints that connect the legs to the pelvis. "I thought I killed you" Father said painfully. I laughed at him. "Silly you, you tried to kill me, which isn't something a father would do to his only daughter. Guess you are heartless after all, but should I open you up, and find out?" I asked him. Father screamed for help so loudly, and tried in vain to be free, but I cut him open and searched for his heart. Once I found it, I started wiggling it out of its spot, until it was in my hand. "I guess you did have a heart. Guess you were just an asshole." I got off of his corpse and then, realized what I had done. I went into such a huge mental breakdown, I ended up passing out. Once I woke up again, I saw my father's corpse, and screamed. Then I remembered the night before, and what I had done. "Wh-what did I do?" I asked myself painfully. "Dad I'm so sorry...." I said sobbing more. Then it hit me. He tried to kill me, if I didn't kill him he would have tried again, or worse, succeed. I did myself a favor, by disposing of the threat. I had to erase my tracks. I took the knife I used and put it in the dishwasher, and started it. I took a shower and changed clothes, and burned my bloody clothes. I took some gloves and put them on to pick up his heart and I put it in a jar. I set the jar on the counter and took the oversized gloves off and called 911. "911 what's your emergency?" "Help my dad has been killed, his heart is missing please help me!" "Where is your location?" "*insert fake location here*" "we are on our way" the phone hung up and I had to get out. I quickly wrote a note to the cops telling them I fled, because I couldn't stand the sight of my dead beloved father. I took my overnight bag, and packed it with clothes and other necessities. You must be thinking 'why not go to your mom?' I don't want her involved in what I did, so I'm running away. I grabbed my pocket knife and left the house and ran into the woods. Where was I running to, I had no clue, I just knew I was running. Three days passed, before I finally passed out from dehydration and restlessness. When I woke up, I was in a room that wasn't mine. This wasn't a hospital room either. Where was I? "You have four minutes to figure out how to get out of this room" said a voice over a speaker. I didn't question it, I had four minutes to think of a plan. There was a stool, wire hangers, and a card. I got up and tried to open the door first. Locked. I grabbed the card and tried to open it that way. Nope. I tried the wire hanger, and it didn't work. I was running out of time, or at least that's what I told myself. I grabbed the stool and threw it at the door, over and over again until it broke. I used the leg of the stool to make a hole in the door. Once there was one I reached to try and find the lock. *click* Bingo. I opened the door and got out of that room, still with the stool leg. Little did I know, this was only one of many trials I had to go through