The unfortunet story of Sara Joans

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is how a life of violence and betrayal drives a girl to the unthinkable.

I stared down at the dripping blood. The pain so sweet I almost forgot myself. I slowly felt darkness fog my vision and the life drain from my very soul. It was a long time coming I thought as I closed my heavy eyes and slipped my head against the tiled wall. This was not the way I wanted my wrecked life to end of coarse, slumped against a wall in a dirty shower, in a disgusting bathroom I can not even bring myself to recant, in an even worse looking dingy apartment you would think was only meant for roaches and hobos. I always wanted to pass peacefully in a spotless hospital with kindly nurses and surrounded with loved ones, not that I had any. Not in this accursed hell hole. Although in some respects suicide is not a pretty thing so I suppose to some degree committing it in absolute squalor is appropriate.
I suppose you are wondering who I am and what has lead to this disastrous evening, well listen close my friends for in you I will confide my meaningless life story. I am Sara Joans, I weigh 8 stone and am 5"10 high. I have shoulder length blonde hair and warm brown eyes. I am quite pretty, I guess, and I have always been utterly miserable.
My very first memory and I suppose where my story starts is on my birthday when I was five. It had been a nice day with balloons, clowns, presents and the biggest chocolate cake you have ever seen. All my friends had come and my Mother and Father bought me a beautiful doll with blonde hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks. I played with her all day and for a long time after the guests left. My Father had taken me to my room late that night tucked me in to be as he normally would but that night he never spoke to me like he would have normally, he only went through the evening with a hollow interest and hurried out my room. I can remember thinking it strange then but I drifted to sleep none the less.
. Later that night I was awoke by the terrible noise of my parents arguing from down stairs, they argued often but this one was loud and sounded violent so I snuck to the banister in the hall to see what was going on just in time to see my mother smacking my Dad over the head with a hammer.
Blood covered the walls, floor and my Mother. ‘That's a beautiful colour of red' I thought, funny the things you think when your Father's brains are strewn across the carpet, isn't it?
Soon the image of my Mother looming over my Father laying sprawled on the floor was tinted blue. Police stormed into the room, a neighbour had called them I think, but I couldn't move. Not even when a female officer gathered me in her arms, could I stop staring.
I don't remember much in between that and my first foster family and even then I don't remember them very well. All I can recollect is their oldest son Jonathan. He was away in the army, I was told for the first six months I was there. The night he came home, some time in December, I had been sent to bed early for telling one the families youngest son when he hit me with a hammer, to recreate my Fathers death. I had heard some one walking up the stairs towards my bedroom. And in walked Jonathan, he stunk of alcohol. He threw himself on to my bed and slurred that we were to play doctors and that he would be the doctor. At first all went well and I was quite enjoying myself but then his hand went to low, which set the tone for the rest of the evening. The next day I told my foster parents what had happened. That's when I was moved to my next foster home.
Many more things happened to me in the further eight homes I went to but every time I tried to tell some one I was moved to another foster home for being a liar.
In my senior year of high school I met Derik a handsome young boy, about a year older with a face that looked as though it was carved by c. He had tick black hair and green eyes. After being friends for about two months he asked me on a date. I said yeas and he took me to a very posh restaurant, then to a disco which was just down the road. Then we went to a local park at about three in the morning to watch the sun rise together. It was the most romantic night of my life, and many more followed as he asked me on more and more dates.
This went of for about a year when at our graduation he asked me to move with him to New York and given the beating I would surly receive when I went back home for being late I gladly jumped into his loaded car.
After about four hours drive we pulled up outside an apartment block, and he rushed me into our new apartment. "Small and dingy," he whispered into my ear "but if you love me it wont matter." And it was fine living there for about a month then the bills started piling up. Eventually he started pressuring me to get a job so I did in the local diner. At first the wages were enough but then Derek started drinking it down the drain, and again I was pressured to get a second job. So I took a job at the lap dance club down the street but still we struggled for money. And on top of the two full time jobs I was holding down I had to clean the full apartment from top to bottom. "I would do it," Derek grunted "but I have a bad back. As soon as it goes away though I will get a job and take you away to Paris for the romantic trip a beautiful girl like you deserves." I have always been warned the devil has a silver tongue but I was young and naïve then so like a good little kitten I lapped up every word he breathed.
Days turned to weeks and weeks to moths and he still had no job and a "bad back", when finally I had enough and confronted him about it. It was about two in the morning and I finally got home to find him drunk as a skunk on the couch.
"When do you think you'll get a new job," I had enquired.
The answer: a slap. I fell to the flood numbed by shock.
"I've given every thing I could." A tremendous thump, smacked in to my stomach.
" And you lord the fact you have a job over me every day, you ungrateful bitch." More punches and kicks rained over me before I had even caught my breath from the first one. Soon I lost consciousness, and woke the next day to Derik stroking my cheek.
"I am so sorry. I bought you flowers and chocolates to make up for it. I even got a job with the police," I stared at him with the same disgust as I did my Dad's spilled brains. "Forgive me...... please" he sobbed, squeezing my hand. And of coarse smart little me, did forgive him.
It wasn't a one off thing though and the beatings became regular, but as far as I was concerned it was my fault. I put it down to the fact that, with his new job with the police, we only saw each other for about an hour a day and in that time I was to tired to, as he described it, put out. When ever I did think I should leave and could find the courage to, he would beg me to stay, tell me he would change, but the only thing that did was that his apologies became fewer and fewer till he stopped giving them all together. After a bout a year of this I realized he wouldn't change so while he was at the store one day I went to the police station and sobbed my entire story to the officer who had taken me into a little room and held me as it flooded out.
I heard the door behind me open but I was to engrossed in what was happening to care. The officer and the person who had opened the door talked for a while. Then I snapped back into reality as the name Derik which sickened me was spoken. Derik grabbed my arm, thanked the officer and through me into the car. Soon we we're back in the apartment and I was on the floor as another series of blows came down.
Over the course of the next couple weeks I tried to run away, it never worked though. A police officer would always catch me and bring me home and I would be punished. My liberties were stripped to the point where I was never alone, and soon I realized how utterly pointless it all was and, well, I gave up and became compliant. The only plus of it was that I was allowed out the house to go to work so basic amenities became easier to come by.
One day after a double shift in the diner I came home, opened the door to our bedroom and saw Derik and some random whore in bed together. I stood there for a couple of seconds not sure what to do then I turned around and walked back out. Bizarrely perhaps the image of the two together was almost projected onto the wall I became entranced with. About an hour later the slut left and I walked back to the bedroom and lay down in our bed. Derik made no attempt to explain himself.
I began to see more and more of the big breasted trollip, until it came to the point where I was kicked out of my own bed, can you believe it, so that they could use it to do what ever they wanted. The whore, Ashley I think, joined in the still regular beatings and the humiliating things they did to me I will not pain you with. It was also made perfectly clear I was only in that house to make the money they spent.
I became cold and hollow. I didn't care about any thing. I drunk the alcohol they left, I used the drugs one of the girls in the lap dancing club gave me and became convinced if they didn't kill me I would do it myself and my path of self destruction leads me to tonight, they had left me alone in the house while they went to the park to watch the sun rise together and frantically I searched the house for the one thing that would take me away and fill me with the warm drunk feeling I loved, when I happened upon it. A Revolver, old and rusty, Derik had told me if I ran away one more time he would shoot me with it. Placing my hand on it my heart raced and dark thoughts grew in my head. I picked up the bullets from the bedside table the gun was kept in and loaded it.
I heard the front door open........
My mind went back to that fateful evening long ago, when that beautiful colour was thrown across the floor.
I heard Happy chatter and laughter......
I thought of the hammer coated in blood, glistening in the hall light.
They walked into the bedroom. "Get on your knees" I said coldly.
"What the he..." I pulled the trigger and hit Derik on the shoulder before he could finish his sentence.
"Get. On. Your. Knees," I breathed. Immediately the two off them did.
"I loved you." Bang! Through Ashleigh's arm, she let out a blood curdling scream "You said you loved me." Bang! Through her chest, she toppled to the floor, breathing irregular and eyes wild.
"You lied." Bang! In her leg. I reloaded the gun.
"I Don't like liars." Bang! Bang! Bang! Three more to the chest.
"You loved a Whore." Bang! Through Derik skull. I stared at the his smashed skull. The brains oozing out of the small hole with disinterest.
Walked to the bathroom. I took a handful of pills, I drew a razor down my arm I clutched the revolver. I stared down at the dripping blood. The pain so sweet I almost forgot myself. I slowly felt darkness fog my vision and the life drain from my very soul. It was a long time coming I thought as I closed my heavy eyes and slipped my head against the tiled wall.
Its funny the things that go through your head when you've just blew your boyfriends brains out, all I could think was how beautiful the blood on my arm was. I dipped my Finger in the crimson blood and wrote I loved him across the wall in it. Then fell down against the wall.
I heard the front door open...
Its odd that it was only now I realized how pointless this had all been.
I heard shocked gasps.......
How pointless my life, Derik's and even the whore's had been. I couldn't but laugh as I slowly raised the revolver. I couldn't control it and began to gag as I put the gun into my mouth.
I heard the bathroom door slam open.


Submitted: August 15, 2007

© Copyright 2021 xXxMikkiKellyxXx. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Robert Storm

Good stuff! I liked it. Wow.

Fri, August 17th, 2007 10:52pm


Thank you!

Sat, December 22nd, 2007 12:16pm

Alayna Andrew

...I was entranced from the beginning! I've never read something so... dark and twisted before.

Although I can't complain. It was very... I don't know. Fantastic. Even though I feel utterly perverted when I say that, -just because this kind of story isn't what I usually read- I can't think of anything else.

I think that if you wrote something similar, equally horrific, I would read it. So weird, I would usually never say that.

5 stars, definitely. Amazing!

Sun, October 14th, 2007 9:22pm


Thanks alot. Nd your in luck, this is the only stuff im good at writing lol.

Sat, December 22nd, 2007 12:15pm


Thanks I’ve not been checking comments cause I NEVER get any but that’s great to hear some one actually likes this lol. I've just wrote a new one you should all go and read it!

Mon, November 5th, 2007 4:29pm


Great Story Mikki =]=]
And Lol At Your Comment
I Wanted To Use Our Names But It Seemed To Make The Story Harder To Write Lol =P

Mon, November 5th, 2007 8:49pm


lol You well just wanted the credit!

Sat, December 22nd, 2007 12:14pm

Aubrey Jack Peaslee

Wow, this is a great story. Its a grim tale that is very realistic, and thats a good thing. You really show just how much a person can take and what happens when they finnaly can't hold it all in anymore. Good job.

Fri, November 30th, 2007 2:46am


Thanks alot. I think you caught on to what I was aiming for (putting across the break down of the girls mental stability)and I thank you for that lol.

Fri, November 30th, 2007 5:07pm


... Entrancing (not sure if thats a word). Exquisite work as always, you have a way with words that many would be envious of. Or at very least, jealous. Keep writing and may you find serenity in doing so.

Fri, December 21st, 2007 8:54am


Lol Glad some one liked it , my english teatcher freaked out when I handed it in for marking.

Sat, December 22nd, 2007 11:55am


WOW! that was nothing short of amazing! it was so sad though. i couldn't stop reading that's just how addictive it was.

Sun, July 27th, 2008 5:19pm


Cool & brutal ;) Like it!

Sat, February 27th, 2010 2:55pm

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