Jackie's POV
*Much later*
The sky was completely red and the world trapped inside a cubicle.
Nothing had changed.
Sufforcated cries was still the sound of singing birds and every tree was made of him.
There was no sun. No moon. Not a single star. And even though you could hear birds there were only two living beings in this world.
It was me.
And it was him.
The air smelled of gunpowder and he was the shotgun from where the smell leaked.
Everytime he smacked me the loaded gun will have sounded like trumpets at the gates of heaven except... There was no such thing as heaven.
There was just the sky, the trees, the ground, the shotgun and me.
Suddenly, the ground shook and my heart trembled. My weak legs gave in as his footsteps neared.
He shot at me.
Again, and again, and again, and again.
The bruises started to bleed and i slumped over.
When he hit me again my palms laid flat on the ground and his hand fisted my hair. He thrusted.
Pain.
My head. My eyes. My body. My entering.
Pain.
My heart. My lungs. My brain. My entering.
Pain.
My mind. My soul. My everything. My entering.
Pain
Blood rushed from my entering. The cuts on my legs opened wider. Blood watered from each cut from the top of my hip to my knee, increasing wuth every thrust.
I cried.
I cried and I cried until tears turned into blood.
I closed my eyes and blood pooled beneath my body, filling my world so quickly that everything disappeared.
I opened my eyes and everything was red. There was no trees. No shotgun. No cubicle.
Just me and millions of sufforcated cries.
I swam to the too for air but there was no ending to the ocean of blood. I started drowning. I couldn't breathe.
I opened my mouth to scream but there was no sound.
And even if there was, no one could hear me. No one can hear me.
The shackle on my ankle pulled me down. At the end of it, was a shotgun.
No one will ever hear me.
BANG!
I jumped from my sleep in realization as I gripped the air to breathe.
No one will hear me while I'm alive.
I sat on the side of my bed staring at the ground.
A dream about earliers events. About yet, another rape story. He didn't care that i was bleeding because of the cuts he created. He punished me for the foreign clothing i came home with and for the cuts on my leg.
The fact that he saw and continued to do what he always did, killed the last bit of hope inside me.
I got up and threw all the books from my bag. I took every scarf I owned and tied them together. Then I shoved it in my bag and slung it over my back before climbing out the window and sitting on our from porch stair, looking at the stars for the last time.
Then I put my chin on my knees and looked over the road.
Him.
He looked straight at me. He looked as if he wanted to come over. He smiled but I couldn't smile. Not anymore.
YOU ARE READING
The Oak Tree And The Shotgun.
Non-FictionThey've always spoken to each other through eye contact in secret. Sharing the fact that they both were damaged and hurt without uttering a single word. Sharing it for almost 12 years without knowing each other. But he's had enough of watching her s...
