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Am I finally allowed to die?

Short story By: XxalexandraxX
Horror



Hope is being abused and raped by her Father, but finally she falls in love with a guy that is so simmilar to her...but it may not last, she may find herself in an even worser Hell...

this is for Sora's Suicide Romance challange!

WARNING: might contain graphic senere and mild language, you have been warned


Submitted:May 31, 2009    Reads: 408    Comments: 22    Likes: 7   


Am I finally allowed to die?

The gleaming knife frosted with vein liquid,

Smiles at me, as the light bounces from its blade,

Teases my fear of its stabbing plunge, waiting for the wicked

Gush of my blood to stream like a running cascade.

The man I once knew fiddles with the knife,

A sinister grin dances on his lips as he traces the blade on my frail skin,

The razor mimics his grin as it plays with my life,

He lightly pierces my skin, with no emotion, no guilt of his sin.

Another streaming wound forms on my body,

But no wound can compare to the seeping of my heart,

I wish for death, desiring it to at last free me,

But this torture, this pain that courses its way through my core is only the start.

His game is evil, his game is cruel,

But he enjoys it, the pain and fright beaming from my eyes,

He is the superior, his word is command, and his actions are the rule,

I soon began to black out, darkness falls into my vision, finally the pain begins to minimize.

But I do not die,

For God is keeping me in Hell,

I sometimes wonder if God might just be a lie,

For my soul, for the pain to stop, I would sell.

But no one wants to take my tortured soul,

I have been used and I am at no ones liking,

For my spirit, over the years has been turned as dark as coal,

I have come to know, that I am in the inside, in fact dying.

I cannot help but wish for a Hope that never comes…

*

He plays with the knife, the blade shines brightly, as he begins to slowly pierce it into my stomach. It doesn't plunge deep enough for my wish of death to fulfill, but enough for me to hear my muffled whimpers of plea.

Teases my fear of its stabbing plunge, waiting for the wicked

Gush of my blood to stream like a running cascade.

I do not budge, not that I could at all, do to the restraints on my arms and legs; but the only thing that my father allows me to do is scream. He loves my scream…he once told me that it was like a tranquil melody from the gods. I can't help but give him what he so desires. I scream with all my lungs from the viscous pain, my eyes tearing with the blood on my cheeks.

He strokes my neck, and then my chest, as he prepares himself for the game. His grim brown eyes stare down at me with lust, as he begins to carefully undress me. I cry loudly, and with my remorseful sobs he begins to kiss me harshly, his lips in hunger.

I have been used and I am at no ones liking,

For my spirit, over the years has been turned as dark as coal,

He begins his wicked game, encouraging me to scream louder, inflicting more and more pain to me with his knife. He slits around my eyes, saying "bloody tears are sexy."

I beg him to stop, but he is only the more satisfied with my helpless pleas. I beg and beg, wishing for death to bless me with the relief that I so desire. But it never comes, he is careful that way. He loves to watch me in pain, if I were dead; I would be of no use to him. His fiddles with my hair, as I lay tied in his arms and completely exposed to his eyes.

I wish for death, desiring it to at last free me,

But this torture, this pain that courses its way through my core is only the start.

I feel him touching me with his greasy hands, playing with me, and dragging the blade across my skin. He turns me over to my stomach, and starts to hit me with the palm of his hands. He commands me to scream, and I do so, begging for his mercy that he does not possess. I feel the darkening of my vision, as I thank god for finally letting me go into my unconscious mind. The murky numb static rushes through my blood, giving the impulse in my mind that I am finally allowed to rest.

I soon began to black out, darkness falls into my vision, finally the pain begins to minimize.

But I do not die.

~*~*~*~*~

I awake to the stream of light escaping my bedroom window. I feel myself, and notice that I am wearing his shirt, blood seeping onto the fabric. I look to the clock, seeing the time of eight.

My school begins at nine, so I unravel myself from the blood stained sheets ignoring the tender pain coursing my body and walk to my closet. I look for something to cover my entire bruised and bleeding body.

I find a long black sweater and dark black jeans and slowly slip them onto my delicate body. I walk to the mirror of the bathroom and stare at the sore girl, he face soaked in dried blood.

Another streaming wound forms on my body,

But no wound can compare to the seeping of my heart,

I apply a few bandages, and use my two year old foundation to cover my old scars and bruises. I walk out of my bathroom, and to the kitchen, starting breakfast. I mix a batter of pancakes, and cook them on the stove. I hear my Father's shuffling feet come to the kitchen and feel his eyes on me.

"You were great last night, too bad you don't remember anything." He said a small smile forming on his lips. I stay mute, as I pour some syrup on the batch of pancakes and butter them. I hold the urge of taking just a small bite.

He doesn't like it when I eat, he says it will turn me fat, and then he wouldn't enjoy rapping me anymore and he would torture me to death. So I eat once a day, if he lets me; I don't buy lunch at school either. I hand him the plate, keeping my eyes from his.

For my soul, for the pain to stop, I would sell.

But no one wants to take my tortured soul,

He makes me kiss him good morning, and then he pushes me out the door. I grab my back pack, and scurry to school to be tortured even more.

I walk through the rain and to my school building, ignoring the clouds' tears.

I come to the front of the building, staring at its cracking brick, and the moss that spreads itself over the structure. A guy comes walking towards me; sandy blonde hair, and dark melting eyes, quite handsome in fact.

He slaps me on the rear, a lusty smile forming on his lips.
I start to shake from fright; afraid what else his hands could do to me.

"Hey, sexy! Nice ass." He greets.

I look down, not wanting him to see my shameful eyes. He examines me some more and notices the bandages on my face.

"What ya been up to girl? Getting rapped? Well, I'm not surprised, you're quite some candy!" he whispers to my ear.

For God is keeping me in Hell,

I sometimes wonder if God might just be a lie,

I start to run from the guy, he follows me into the school, I look back to him, almost recognizing him from somewhere…the school football team? Maybe, he is wearing a jersey, and looks quite athletic.

A lean blonde calls to him, and catches his eyes on my behind. She yells something to him, and he nods sorrowfully. The only audio that I hear from their conversation is fragments.

"Sorry, babe-

"Do that again, and-

"Forget about our nights together, you-

"Okay, sorry-

The blonde girl walks towards my direction in a slight pout, shaking her hips from side to side, her skirt being four inches shorter then dress code policy. She stops in front of me and crosses her arms, chewing on a piece of gum.

"What are you doing showing your sluty ass to my boyfriend?" she tilts her head as she raises her eyebrows in question. "You're gonna pay for it, ya know?" she blows a pink bubble in my face, and the pop startles me. I feel a pang of fear by her words, like a neede being poked into my lungs.

I shiver in fright, as she clutches to my black sweater. I see a posse of tall, lean, blondes following us as she drags me towards the bathroom. Her grip is just so strong; I can't bear to fight her off, and not to mention the gang of five blondes looking at me with hatred.

She pushed me to the ground of the bathroom, and I hit my head on the sink. It throbs pain, and hurts like hell. I grip my head in agony as she starts to beat me with her high-heeled foot. The heel stabs into my abdominal, and I shriek in pain.

I wish for death, desiring it to at last free me,

But this torture, this pain that courses its way through my core is only the start.

I beg for her to stop, but her friends only join in, beating me with their fists and feet. The blonde that had dragged me into the bathroom stops beating me and fiddles in her purse. She brings out a hot pink lipstick and starts to colour my bleeding lips with it.

The scabs on my mouth burn as they are pressed with the lipstick. She soon starts to rub it all on my face, until it is covered in hot pink gloss. She then takes out a pair of scissors and starts to chop away at my hair.

I watch helplessly as she cuts chunks of my black hair off, dumping them onto my face after they were torn from my scalp. I keep crying, my tears washing away the hairs on my face. She then kicks me in the gut once more, leaving me there bleeding.

"Stay away from my boyfriend, you bitchy whore." She whispered in my ear before she leaves.

For my soul, for the pain to stop, I would sell.

But no one wants to take my tortured soul,

I stay there, on the cold tile floors, drenching blood, wishing for the darkness of death to conquer me. But as much as I beg, my wish would not come true. God hates me because I am a filthy slut, and therefore He does not want to bless me with the only comfort I could have.

After hours on the floor, I finally manage to gather myself from the tiles and to the mirror. I wash away the lipstick and the blood, looking at myself with disgust. My hairis unevenly chopped off in places, some spots even bald. But I quite liked my hairstyle now. It looks different and unique, so I decide to leave it like it is.

I come out of the bathroom and walk into the hall way, catching a glance of a handsome stranger, dressed quite similar to me; all black, hair spiked up, and an array of heavy eye liner coursed his eyes, beautifully dark. His lips are in a delicate curve, a smile of sort.

He stares at me for a while, and I look down to my feet, not wanting to see his tranquil green eyes. I keep wondering to my self why I am still breathing. I limp towards class then stopping at the door. Why do I need this?

But I do not die,

For God is keeping me in Hell,

Who wants me alive besides my abusive father? He only wants to rape the shit out of me until I finally die…might as well die without pain. I scurry to the side door, across the classroom, as I see the cute stranger pass me, his eyes in curiosity.

I open the door, and start to climb the stairs; these stairs will take me to the roof. I keep my pace, barely breathing. The pain from the wounds hurt so much; it's just so angonizing to breathe.

I finally approach the door and I burst it open. A flow of humid air infiltrates my nostrils. I feel a rush of last adrenaline fill me as I walk towards the edge of the building. If God doesn't want to grant me death, then I will have to steal my life away. I walk towards the edge of the building looking down towards the school parking lot.

I take a last deep breath as I close my eyes, waiting for the feeling of wind beneath me. But suddenly I feel hands wrapping around my waist, and the feeling of falling on the opposite direction. Not towards the ground of the parking lot, but towards the ground of the roof.

I feel a sharp pang of my stomach. A strong grasp is holding me, right where my wound is. I feel the person's hands unravel me, and I am left on the ground. The handsome stranger that I noticed in the halls was staring at me in god struck.

For my spirit, over the year has been turned as dark as coal,

I have come to know, that I am in the inside, in fact dying.

Why did he save me? Or better yet why didn't he save me from my misery? I look up to him furry burning in my eyes; the pain flooding in me from my wounds pump with agony. My body aches and I wish for death all the more.

"Why!?"' I yell to him.

His long side bangs fall to his eyes, as a pain dashes into his eyes. His lips form into a slight pout, as he kneels to the ground that I am sitting on.

"Why, what? I just saved you!"

I look at him, my brows in a frown, I start to cry, tears flooding from my brown eyes.

"What if I don't want to be saved…?" I mumble through my sobs.

He looks down at me as I hug my knees in comfort, rocking back and forth.

He slowly embraces me, his arm wrapping around my waist. He tries to be gentle, for he can see the seeping wounds on my body.

"Every one wants to be saved." He whispers, gently kissing my lips. A tear runs down my face and to my lips while his are on mine.I seal my eyes, and pull back.

"You don't want me…I'm a whore." I whisper under my breath.

He delicately rubs my back, creasing my short hair with his hand. He pulls my face in his direction; I now am staring into the mists of his clear green eyes.

"Look." He says, pulling off a wrist band of his lower arm.

I stare at the fading scars that run through his ashen skin, as one of my tears fall to his wrist. He looks to me with a smile gently spread across his lips.

"I love you." He says.

"You don't know my name." I retort, leaning my head away from his.
"I don't, but I know what you're going through. And I love you because I see a strength in you I wish I had." He replies, brushing his bang from his face.

"What's that?" I ask, intensely glued to his eyes.

"A hope." He answers, his lips tracing back to mine. I feel a grinding in my stomach, as my heart burns blood into my cheeks. I have never felt this sort of passionate kiss, this feeling of static rushing through me as our lips are together. I wish for the moment not to end, for i feel a dash of pure joy.

He unlocks our lips a moment later. "My names Caspian and I can tell I love you're name already, although I haven't the slightest idea what it is." He tilts his head in questioning, his hair swaying with his movement.

"Hope, that's my name." I look to him, my eyes smiling, but my lips not quite following.

We sit on the roof, talking for hours. I tell him the story of my life, and the games that my Father plays with me. I cry on his shoulder, and he gently embraces me. He tells me of how his mother is an alcoholic, and how his father is in prison.

We share depressing, sad stories of our miserable lives, both crying at times. But we stay together, comforting when needed, and kissing when hugging isn't enough. The school bell rings, and we finally go down stairs, kissing each other good bye when we must bed farewell.

I tell him that I wish to see him tomorrow, and he whispers in my ear "I love you." then kisses me. I walk back home in the rain again, feeling a slight smile creep on my lips. It's strange that death can bring two people together. That's what has happened to me. If I had never tried to kill myself, I wouldn't have found Caspian.

I enter my home to find my dad on the couch, dead drunk. I thank God for the blessing of escaping my rape today, and I retort to my room. I lay on my bed, thinking of Caspian, and how I am going to tell him that I love him tomorrow. Because of him, I'm alive and happier then I had ever been in my fifteen years of life.

I slowly drift away to a deep slumber, images of Caspian dancing in my head.

I cannot help but wish for a Hope that never comes…

I awake to the sounding of my alarm. I press the 'off' button and get up from my mattress. I walk towards my closest, picking out my best black pants, and a cute tight black t-shirt with a scull.

I dress impatiently, wanting to get to school, and see Caspian. I brush the tangles in my short hair, and apply fresh bandages and a bit of make-up; just a tad of eyeliner and a coat of gloss.

I walk down the stairs, seeing my Father still snoozing on the couch, a beer in his hand. I quietly walk out of the house, grabbing my back pack, and almost running towards school. If it wasn't for my injuries, I would have been able to sprint, but do to the wounds all over my body, Iam forced to half limp, half run.

When I finally entered the school building, I made my way to the front office. I heave as I walk towards the secretary. She eyes me with confusion, her tiny glasses on the edge of her noise.

"What's Caspian…Moore's, first class?" I ask, sweat pouring from my forehead.

The secretary bits her hot pink lips, and stares at me. She has a look of doubt and regret on her face as she wrinkles her brow.

"Umm, miss, I'm sorry to inform you, but, Mr. Moore died last night in a terrible car crash…" she trailed off.

I feel my head spin; my cheeks flush red, and the tears pouring from my eyes. I start to run out of the office, ignoring the pain in my legs and heart. I run to the roof, not stopping from the yells of the teachers.

I sob and scream on the roof, yelling in pain.

But he enjoys it, the pain and fright beaming from my eyes,

He is the superior, his word is command, his actions are the rule,

I see a gleaming piece of metal near the ledge of the building, shining in the dim morning light. I walk towards it, noticing that it is a pocket knife. It must have slipped out of Caspian's pocket yesterday.

I bent over to it, and grasped it in my hands, opening the gleaming blade. I cried silently as I touched the cold metal to my skin. It felt so cold, yet its touch made my cheeks burn with blood.

Teases my fear of its stabbing plunge, waiting for the wicked

Gush of my blood to stream like a running cascade.

I slowly drag it across my skin, waiting for the flooding of my blood. It gently gushes out, as I cry in happiness of the darkness dancing in my eyes. I slit my wrist once more, trying to get the blood to flow faster. My knees buckle from my numbness, and I fall to the cold cement floor. Caspian was wrong, i dont have hope any londer...

Pictures of Caspian's face flow in my mind as I close my eyes from the sudden weakness. I feel my wrist streaming blood as a pool of crimson liquid forms around my frail body. The blood from my wrist slowly drips to my mouth. i taste the rusty liquid, wondering if it would be my last taste ever. I welcome the darkness that is slowly entering my mind. Am I finally allowed to die?

For my spirit, over the years has been turned as dark as coal,

I have come to know, that I am in the inside, in fact dying.

~*~*~*~*~
The first thing I see is the bright white lamp light from the room. I look around, deciding that I couldn't be in Heaven. I finally notice that I am strapped to a bed, in a white room with soft fabric walls.

The florescent lamps from above stream on my face, momentarily blinding me from its brightness. I scream loudly, but I feel a sharp scratching pain in my throat, like knives jabbing.

Soon, a white door begins to open, and a man in a white long lab coat walks towards my bed. I twist my body, trying to free myself from the strapped restraints, but I come to acknowledge that my resistance is to of no use.

The elderly looking man comes closer to me, a sorrowful smile spread on his lips.

"Hope, are you feeling better?" the man asks, and I look franticly around, trying to make sense of it all.

"Hope, you tried to commit suicide…but luckily you were saved. This institution will help you get better." He grinned. "I'm Dr. Crowley."

"What?" I asked still stunned. How could I still be alive, surly I had cut deep enough…why was I still here on this stupid Earth?

"Its okay, Hope, I know it's hard to recover, but you just rest, I will bring some medicine for you in a while." The doctor slowly starts for the white door, pausing for a moment. "You have a visitor in the meanwhile." He looks back to me and smiles.

I feel my cheeks burning of the thought that I was still alive. How could I be? I wished for my death to find me, but it seemed to have lost its way…

But I do not die,

For God is keeping me in Hell,

The doctor disappears from the room, and he walks in, his eyes in anger, and a hunger rages deep inside them. He starts to come near me as I feel my body convoluting rapidly. I scream, my pleas crackly and horsed but he only smiles a wide grin that extends to his eyes.

He finally approaches my bed and starts to pat my hair.
"Did you think you could run away?" he asks, his eyes coursing my body. "Don't worry, as the night approaches, we can be together, I miss your screams so much…" he glides his hand to my chest.

I scream, bringing his ears pleasure. My Father stares down at me with lust, gently stroking my lips with his.

I finally realized that I was in fact dead; I just had gone to Hell.

I cannot help but wish for a Hope that never comes…

The End..





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