Runaway
- Reads 63
- Votes 5
- Parts 3
Ongoing10m
Last published Fri, Jun 17, 2016
AAAHHHHH!!!
A high pitched scream filled my ears. Loud enough to be heard 5 streets down. Just from one simple scream you could hear so much. So much distress, hurt, confusion and shock all In just one scream.
"I-Um I, I" I stuttered stepping back. What have I done? Oh god what have I done?
All Rights Reserved
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Why did he kidnap me? This happened 3 months ago. Many times I have tried to escape the clutches of his rough hands. Many times I have cried for help. But I need to get stronger in order to escape from him. Now, three months later, I think about this, but now my feelings are different. I wanted to kill him, to make him suffer the way he made me suffer. "Do it, kill him!" Is what I'm thinking. "Kill him and it will be over. I will be able to escape." The mask that was hiding his identity looks at me as I hold the knife to his throat. The whole time I been wondering why I didn't just slit his throat. He told me to do it, to finish him but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I couldn't hate him for the times he whipped me or raped me. I just couldn't. I looked at him holding the knife to his throat with a shaky hand. No matter how hard I try I can't hate him. No matter how hard I try I can't get the knife to slice Reidson's throat. Dropping the knife on the floor I look at his face. I couldn't see his eyes because of the white mask. Now the same hands that used to be so rough became soft and warm. He still beats and rapes me but I figured out why I didn't hate him for making me suffer like this with these same hands that hurt me so cruelly are now touching my face gently. I held his hand to my chest as I look at his masked face. His hand is stained with blood. My blood. I look at his face, I have fallen into a cruel love.Complete
Unlikely
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When I was jumped off the bridge I thought of a moment which made me re-think my decision. But its too late. I was dying. Drowning. Struggling. Then his hand came up to me. He pulled me towards him. I was held up in his arms. He shook me to see if i can open my eyes. But all i can sense is his warmth. Who is he? Why is he saving me? Why is his touch feels so good?
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I always thought I was safe, you know? I mean, it wasn't really something I thought about before. It's not like I had a reason to worry about being particularly unsafe. I've always been perfectly normal anyways. Nothing exciting or dangerous happened to me. I was a plain Jane in every sense of the phrase, and nothing strange or particularly astonishing ever happens to people like me. My entire philosophy, however, was completely and drastically changed after being attacked and raped one night. I probably would have been killed if it weren't for Drake Collins, the closed off "tough guy" of my school. He came to my rescue, and reluctantly swore not to breathe a word to anyone. Unfortunately, my attacker escaped. It was after that, that I closed myself off from the few people that I did talk to before. My safety, my very sense of security, was violated. My world was swept out from under my feet. Drake stayed by my side the entire time, helping me through my struggles. He became the only one I could talk to or confide in, and was soon the only reason I woke up each morning. He kept me safe.Complete
When our eyes met
"As I looked up, my eyes met someone else's. He had curly copper brown hair that fell on his forehead and a chiseled jaw but I wasn't too concerned about his physical attributes. What really stuck out to me was his hazel eyes. I felt my pupils dilate as I slowly melted in his eyes. I felt safe in the comfort of his gaze. Why do I feel safe? The room faded away. It was just the two of us. Why does he have this effect on me? His eyes looked sympathetic. Why is he sympathetic? What are my eyes telling him? I felt a warm sensation flow through my body as my breaths became deeper. I didn't care about any of what happened before and I didn't care about anyone else. I just wanted to stay in this moment, with him, forever."Complete
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I woke to a sudden breeze invading the warmth from the heavy blanket that caressed my skin. Here, alone with my thoughts, the still, calm quiet in the atmosphere is almost painful. I feel suffocated in the clingy, static air. In quiet, still moments like these, I can almost feel Him. I don't know who "Him" is, but I can feel his presence. It's almost calming, especially on fearful, anxiety fueled nights. Usually, he was the strongest when I had a nightmare. The nightmares weren't as common now, but, right after everything happened, I was having them every night. I'd wake up and swear I was drenched in blood, my eyes and lips sticky, my nose filled with the smell of iron and fuel. After everything, that's when Him first came. From there, he just never left. I can usually sense when Him is near. Today, though, his presence is stronger. I can almost feel Him next to me, weighing down the mattress. Some nights, I roll over and imagine how he looks, envision his smile or the sparkle in his eyes. He's never there and I'm left clutching to the thought that he exists, staring into empty air. Tonight, though, I swear I can reach out and touch him. Extending my hand gently, I sweep my hand out into the darkness and meet an inexplicable warmth. A scream rips from my lungs as hands cover my face and two icy blue eyes stare back at me, daring me to speak again. A soft cloth caressed my nose and mouth before I felt myself fade into bed. All Rights Reserved. Contains graphic descriptions of violence and assault. Contains battle scene.Complete
Why did he kidnap me? This happened 3 months ago. Many times I have tried to escape the clutches of his rough hands. Many times I have cried for help. But I need to get stronger in order to escape from him. Now, three months later, I think about this, but now my feelings are different. I wanted to kill him, to make him suffer the way he made me suffer. "Do it, kill him!" Is what I'm thinking. "Kill him and it will be over. I will be able to escape." The mask that was hiding his identity looks at me as I hold the knife to his throat. The whole time I been wondering why I didn't just slit his throat. He told me to do it, to finish him but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I couldn't hate him for the times he whipped me or raped me. I just couldn't. I looked at him holding the knife to his throat with a shaky hand. No matter how hard I try I can't hate him. No matter how hard I try I can't get the knife to slice Reidson's throat. Dropping the knife on the floor I look at his face. I couldn't see his eyes because of the white mask. Now the same hands that used to be so rough became soft and warm. He still beats and rapes me but I figured out why I didn't hate him for making me suffer like this with these same hands that hurt me so cruelly are now touching my face gently. I held his hand to my chest as I look at his masked face. His hand is stained with blood. My blood. I look at his face, I have fallen into a cruel love.
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