Tainted Knives

00 | Prologue

D A L L A S

I stare outside into the dark, illuminating night sky. The moon looks beautiful and serene, the stars barely showing. The air here is clean and fresh. Maybe because it's the countryside.

Tomorrow, I have to go back to my nightmares.

Hatred consumes me more than ever. I hated my life. No words could ever describe my hatred, except well, hate.

I don't understand what I ever did wrong. I don't know why my parents died and I don't know why I'm stuck in this abusive, disgusting place with a disgusting man who find pleasure in tormenting me.

I don't know why I had to pay the price for the lack of my parents' responsibility.

Thunder strikes the skies. The cool breeze turns into cold, harsh wind, one that would cut slits into your skin. Trees shake violently, and I feel the angst present in the sky.

Rain comes down pouring in rage.

I love this.

The chaos, the craziness of the sky was ethereal.

I feel like writing something.

Now, I don't write a lot. But with the lack of entertainment and equipment, there's only so much I can do to enjoy myself.

I take out my diary, which was nothing but a plain ruled notebook, covered in black. It had blooming white flowers on it, which wasn't exactly my type. So I drew some red on the flowers so it could look like blood.

Perfect.

I let out a deep breath.

I grab a pen next to me, and I open the notebook before inking the pages black.

disillusioned, you are my dear,

for believing this nest of lies,

for believing the sights you've seen,

that gave a twinkle in your eye.

your wings are slashed and broken.

your body decorated in cuts.

these things you wear like jewelry,

they're supposed to be twinkling but your eyes are shut.

you are a child of the broken.

swimming in the seas of blood.

the carpet is stained when you look.

your misery is taken as fun.

hush dear child, don't scream.

fill that empty vessel of yours and breathe.

let your stomach know only hunger.

that desire of yours will make you stronger.

shut your eyes, dear child.

don't look at that red stained knife.

the one shining and glimmering,

the one making you itch to fight.

you are now weak, crouching down.

roses and blood have dried at your feet.

get up, aren't you hungry?

get up, aren't you angry?

kill that scum in the most beautiful way.

hate, hate, hate, hate.

make him suffer, make him scream.

make him regret what he's done to me.

you see the knife, don't you? grab it. grab it by the hilt.

it's sickening, disgusting, revolting with his touch.

stained with the blood of countless victims.

tainted because he used it too much.

look at him in the eye. 

look at the lights fade out.

in his nightmare, he's weak and powerless

the blood leaks slowly, and i'm enjoying it.

stop. he's no more. 

his screams no longer echo.

the carpet is stained in his blood.

this knife, it's glistening too much.

rest now dear, and breathe, the job is done.

leave that body below a dumpster.

burn it if you wish and run forward.

run as long as you desire.

you stare at that knife don't you?

it's sickening, disgusting, revolting to touch.

stained with the blood of countless victims.

tainted because he used it too much.

grab that knife by the hilt.

never let the bloodstains fade.

because for forever you need to remember,

remember what made you this way.

hold it tight. hold that disgusting tainted knife.

I smile.

The rain slowly stops.

The nature is now quiet, cheering with the sounds of crickets.

The leaves rustle.

The door creaks.

I write at the top, titling the poem:

Tainted Knives

And tomorrow, I pray for a chance to become free.