(Very much Inspired by DDLC)
A wave of sickness instantly fell over me as my shaky, pale hand reached for the rusted doorknob to the prison I used to call home.
“You're a criminal”
“You're no one special Jules”
“No one special, just a dried up rat like the rest of them.”
Teardrops began to swell up in my glass-like eyes, as I turned the knob and entered the police swarmed home.
“Stop it, this is getting pathetic now Juliet.” His voice rang in my ears like the beat of a drum, pounding my heart away, in chime with it's drop.
The melancholy atmosphere stuck to the room like a fungus, a parasite; almost reminding me of myself. After all... that's all I really am right?
My head, along with my body moved in almost slow motion; my feet shakily clutching the dusty dried up cheap floorboards, groaning in eerie creak as I placed one foot in front of the other, terrified of the memories I would inevitably face. Glancing up, I analysed my surroundings, attempting to calm what little soul I had left in me. Yellow and black police tape draped and boarded up from this fowl lot, as if it was parading my pain. Shooting stings assult my mind along with my thoughts. 'Why? Why did I do that? This is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. And to the person I love? I’m nothing but a revolting criminal!' My thoughts bombarding my pretty much broken mind. Old screams and cries warping through my ears like a portal. 'Stop it! Stop it!' Attempting to not make a scene, I hurriedly sniffled as I darted my head around to distract myself from this zoo of pain! As my tear-filled ugly eyes landed on their pray, my fragile heart began to bend and snap all over again.
I felt my face begin to shift and formulate into an overwhelming and fowl expression, all I could muster was to stare daggers at that dreadful corner; attempting to intimidate, as it does to me. My head, immediately decided to throb uncontrollably. I brought my hand to my now skinny arm, wincing as it scraped one of my many large gashes; letting the repressed memories flow from my brain. Examining the deep cut, I laced my fingers over it, playing with it for amusement as small fragments of dried up blood fell to the floor.
‘IT WAS HIM! HIS FAULT!’
‘NO! All he did was help you Juliet and you ki-‘
“Please stop…” I sobbed as I interrupted them… they are never quiet anymore. I processed, slowly making my way over to that horrifying bend in the wall.
“OSCAR! Y-YOU'RE HURTING ME!” I exclaimed, replying to his yells as he grabbed my much smaller wrist, bruising and imprinting purple-ish marks upon it.
“You think you're so special don't you? Well you're nothing! Why do you think your parents kicked you out, ey?” That one sentence, that one statement, that one day still circulates around my head. That was the first day he laid his hands on me and it only seemed to become a pattern, a rhythm almost, from then on.
“You're no one special.”
“Well that ain’t a pretty face love.”
“No one’s gonna come looking for you.”
“'This is getting pretty pathetic now.”
YOU ARE READING
Jules Unhinged. <<Completed>>
Horror(Karen O, THE KIDS: Food Is Still Hot). "I begin to hyperventilate as my compulsion grows- Images of my hand driving the blade into his chest over and over. Unthinkable, unimaginable. But it happened." An old one shot I did a couple years ago. Tri...
