Fighting Evil

FE: 8. Afterlife

§ V A L E N T I N A §

Everything was quiet, I was breathing just fine, I didn't feel the slightest bit of pain. I knew was floating.

A bright light blinded me as soon as I opened my eyes. I felt the corners of my lips tug into a smile even though the light was so strong that I was crying.

I had made it.

I was dead, and this was the afterlife.

Never again would I have to see Louis or his ugly white friends.

I wiggled my fingers and toes.

This was what freedom felt like.

I took in a deep breath of fresh and clean afterlife-air. The temperature was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

I slowly moved my legs so that I could be at ninety-degrees instead of lying down.

My legs fell of the edge of something and I quickly moved my head to see what it was.

I almost cried at what I saw.

I was in an infirmary room. I wasn't in the afterlife.

My mind fell back down into reality, and suddenly, gushing in like a river, the pain I thought was gone came back. I groaned painfully. Where was the numb pain I had experienced before? Why did it hurt so much now?

Before I could stop myself, I was crying again.

God damn it, I was supposed to be dead. I dug a knife through my chest, I was impaled, my heart stopped bleating. There was no way Louis or his dumb medical team could have saved me.

More importantly, I wondered why Louis had even bothered saving me. I was close to death anyways, how much longer did I have to go through this?

My fists clenched and fisted the thin sheets of the bed in anger. I sobbed quite loudly as a couple of swears left my mouth.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching so I turned my head away from the door and tried as best as I could to stop my crying. I kept my breathing even and wiped my tears onto the back of my hand.

When the person finally approached me, I started to get sweaty. I had no idea how I got here, where I was, or who this person was. My eyes stayed tightly shut.

Cool hands trailed from my stomach and went higher and higher. I almost wanted to thrash at this person but then I realized it might even have been a girl, and if anything else happened, then I would act.

The cold hands lifted up my top and I could feel the heat in my cheeks rise. I was almost about to attack the rapist in front of my until I realized that I was getting bandages cut off of me. The cool metal of the scissors constantly touched my warm skin and I prayed that the person wasn't looking at my breasts.

When it was over, I let slowly go of the breath I was subconsciously holding. As the bandages came off my skin, I could feel the sting of the fresh air hitting my wounds and temporary skin. I almost winced but I bit my tongue and kept my eyes shut.

Soon I felt a new bandage being wrapped around my chest and back, going over my shoulders, making an X and I knew it was almost over and the person would leave.

"I know you're awake," Louis' voice said as he pulled back down my shirt. I could feel my face heat up in the already warm room from anger and embarrassment. Even if he's seen every part of me, I still felt embarrassed.
Part of me thought Louis was just saying it to get me to wake up and that he actually didn't know if I was awake or not.

"You were awake before I came in and you were crying, your eyes are puffed," Louis explained. My face felt even more hot and I still didn't open my eyes.

"You're face is turning red Valentina, I can see it," Louis urged. Louis had barely ever spoken this much to me and I felt myself getting annoyed. "I was told that I need to wake you up, we need to talk abou-"

"Fück you, I don't want to talk to the asshole who decided to spare my life when he wanted me to die the whole fückïng time, get the hell out," I yelled angrily, all my built up anger, that I felt like I could release now, making me sit up to emphasize my words. I was one hundred precent going to get busted later.

"I...I-I," I heard Louis reply with a hurt expression on his face. He never continued his sentence after the first word, so I took this as a chance to get off the bed and grab the scissors on the table next to me.

I hastily tore the tangled tubing that was attached to my wrists and stomach off. Louis grabbed my upper arm and tried to get me to stop and face him. I stumbled into his chest due to not using my legs for such a long time. That didn't stop me.

"This is what you wanted! I've reached my fückïng breaking point!" I yelled, feeling tears come to my eyes for God knows why. "You wanted me to die, so just let me drive these blades into my heart so it'll stop beating and everyone will be fückïng happy!" My hand reached in my shirt to pull up the bandages and I raised the scissors up so I could slam them through my chest. I felt like I just ripped off my skin and it stung as air hit onto a fresh patch of flesh, but I ignored it, as best as I could.

Louis used both hands to try and wrestle the scissors out of my hand. I wouldn't let him, not this time. He might have been strong but I was pretty sure I had the stamina. I kicked and thrashed as hard as I could but the fight quickly moved to the ground, with Louis on top.

"Let go, let's get this over with," I demanded angrily. Louis' pity game was going a bit too far.

"YOU'RE NOT KILLING YOURSELF!" Louis yelled, taking me by surprise and I froze in fear. He took it to his own advantage and took the scissors out of my hand.

I winced as the pain harshly came back. Louis realized and surprisingly climbed off of me. My chest and back seared with pain and I could hear my breathing become ragged and uneven. Every breath hurt more than it had earlier.

As Louis scooped me up off the ground I caught a glance of blood leaking through my blue shirt.

"Śhit, with that roughness you ripped off that temporary skin," Louis told me. "I'm cleaning this wound and then we'll see the doctor can print out some more skin for you. And you really shouldn't have stood up, you're still wearing a cast on your left calf."

I didn't reply, I just leaned my head back and wrapped my arms around his neck and tried not to make a noise even though my chest and back stung incredibly.

"I am seriously not going to let you be around any sharp objects. You're going to have to promise that you won't hurt yourself again." Louis said but I didn't reply.

I tried to numb out the pain and focus on something else but that didn't really work. And it was probably then that I realized that Louis' sympathy was faker than Santa.

He was only letting me heal so that I would be locked up and tortured again, but I wouldn't be used to the pain. No, instead it would be like when I first woke up from there, and probably a repeated process until Louis really felt like he was done with me.

-

If they still use fückïng hospital gowns instead of letting patients use some comfortable clothes in the future, I will be extremely pissed.

But forreal tho, I suck at describing pain. Someone tell me what it feels like to drive a fückïng blade through your heart and live through it.