**This is based on a song that has been in my head all week so please bare with me that this is not only my first story but my shot at poetry for about 3 years**

what have you done to me?
a haze of pain as memories twist.
once we shared innocence,
hand in hand and open,
but your desire drifted away.
a horrific fever of hatred -
emotions follow memory, follow hate,
love condemned.
in a storm of bitterness,
i still love you.

"Untitled" by Mysticwryter

The sound of children laughter fills the yard of a pre-school. A boy and a girl are running past the swing-sets, giggling and squealing. Other children are playing hopscotch, jump rope, and admiring the settings around them. There is one girl who was sitting on the curb, holding herself by her knees as she watched other children play games. She was the loner, "Cutting Caroline" as they children called her, making fun of the scars she had upon her wrists and ankles. She stifled a sniffle when a man appeared at her side, and sat calmly next to her. He rubbed her back gently and bent down to see her face. He wiped her tears with his sweater and she looked him into his eyes. His ice-blue eyes sent chills down her legs and the goosebumps appeared on her arms.

"What's the matter?" the kind man's voice said, "are they making fun of you for your scars?" She nodded slowly and felt the his smooth rub on her back stop. He picked her face up and held them in his hands. "Come with me, I'll show you that you are a very special girl." He held out his hand and she grabbed it walking with the man towards a building adjacent to the pre-school. What seemed like a maze full of halls, stairs and darkness, they reached the destination which was a small room, off from a furnace. The heat was there as it was hard to breathe and Caroline felt hot and felt the sweat begin to fall from her pores on her back and nose. He motioned her to sit down on the mattress and he began to rummage through boxes. Caroline looked around and saw pictures of monsters, sunshine that other school mates have drawn. Some of them had black line through them, as if they were crossed out. While admiring the colors of every picture. The man came from behind her and put his hand on her shoulder and 2 knife fingers on the other. Caroline's eyes began to widen and felt a small smile stretch across her face. The man smiled to as his face began to burn. The flames stretched from the collar of his sweater and engulfed his entire head. His brown hair withered in the fire, and his skin began to melt. The fires ceased and left him with a burned face but those icy-blue eyes, began to glow and he began to cackle loudly, showing his rotting teeth.

"NO!" screamed Cara, sitting in class as she awaken in English. The other students began to giggle and snicker as she looked around. Her teacher, Mr. Barnes, stared her down and she knew that she was in deep shit. "Ms. Camp, I appreciate that you decided to join in the class discussion, but we went over Hamlet last week. We are now on Othello, and we haven't even begun to read. Please see me after class." Mr. Barnes returned to the rest of his class and ended his lesson. Caroline felt the redness starting to build within her cheeks and she sat there fuming at herself for falling asleep in class. The bell rang and she gathered her backpack and quickly left the room. She walked slowly to her locker, adjusting her glasses as she went past. Finally at her locker, she opened carefully but was soon closed by Turner, her enemy. Turner was the class president along with homecoming king, valedictorian and every single other title within the high school. He brood as he walked through the hall ways and girls would giggle and stare in wonder at him. Caroline always thought of him to be somewhat of a queer with his ways. She would seem him with his group of buddies and more, but they would all be male. He never had a girlfriend or even talked to one for more that 5 minutes, other than Caroline.

"Let me have my physics homework, bitch." Turner demanded from her. She looked up at him, and smiled. Caroline never wanted confrontation or any violence while she was in school. She reached into her locker and grabbed the papers. He snatched them out of her hands. "Wow, you actually took the time to do the work. Cutting Caroline actually spent time on this rather than on herself," Turner replied as he looked up and down Caroline. Her red hair pulled back into a bun down to her neck, revealing a black bra strap from her red tank-top. Her hoodie wrapped around her tiny waist to her dirty jeans, down to her ripped up tennis shoes. He got closer to her face and finally said "You know, for a girl, you sure look like a boy." She looked back into his eyes and felt his pride begin to take hold as his friends "oooed" around him.

"Well, Turner. I'm sorry you feel that way. Because even though I don't have all the medals, trophies or titles, at least I have the balls to be able to withstand pain." His eyes grew big and he let out a groan as her broken tennis shoe met with his groin. She felt his balls land on top of her shoe and she pushed up into his pelvis. She slammed her locker and ran down the hallway toward the outside doors. His buddies crowed around Turner as he gasped for air. "I'm...goin...to...fucking...kill...her," he said gasping for air. His buddies helped him up and took him toward the nurse's station.

Caroline ran down the street and finally stopped at the stop sign where her bus was suppose to be, but again she missed the bus and would have to walk home. She dropped her backpack and untied her hoodie from her waist. She pulled the hoodie down over her head and then started to walk, with her backpack dragging into the dirt. Cara couldn't stop thinking about her encounter with tis man as she walked down the sidewalk toward her house. The cool mid-october breeze, blew through the red and yellow leaves on the trees and on the ground. Her shoes suffled through them, crunching and lifting them up from the ground. She felt a familiar presence when she was holding his hand, or rubbing her back. She walked slowly trying to put pieces of the dream together. Why woudl she be dreaming about a man who had razor finger? Why were there pictures drawn by children on the wall? With the more questions she needed answered, she felt overwhelmed and her head began to ache.

She reached her house on the corner of Elm St. and Walnut Ave. Her house was inviting with warm yellows and cremes. Her windows were open and she could see her white curtains billowing in the openings. Cara blew out a sigh as she walked up the pathway toward her front door. She opened the door and was greeted with the smell of vanila and lavender; a smell she grew acustomed to when it was her grandmother's. Now that Cara had the house to herself after the passing of her grandmother, she never felt alone.

I'm home, Mammaw," Cara called out as she closed the door. Since it was only two years ago that she said goodbye, she found it comforting to call out her presence, but she also knew her greeting would never be answered. She dropped her backpack on the bottom step and proceeded up the wooden stairs. The cool wooden steps creaked as she ascended up to her bedroom; sanctuary. She opened the door to her disheveled bed full of pink and black bedsheets and her brown fluffy teddybear leaning up against her black pillows. Her room was a mess with clothes strewn all over the floor and desk. All Cara could do was chuckle. She fell onto her bed gracefully and was caught by the fluffliness of her bed. She took her cell phone from her front pocket and placed it on her pilow as she felt the overcumbering effect of sleep.

"Maybe an hour will get rid of this headache," she said to herself as her eyelids fell.

Cara found herself outside a vacant building with glass windows broken and cracked. She was surrounded by weeds and ash. The creeking of steel reverberated off of the buildings. Suddently a loud boom came through Cara's ears as she turned to find a door bouncing back from being opened. She slowly walked toward the door and entered cautiously. She cleared door and the door slamed loudly. Cara scrambled to open the door but she was not able to open it, like as if it was jammed. She heard faint humming and giggling behind her and slowly turned. Sitting silently upon the echos of the stairwell of an abandoned building sits a lonely child playing with a doll with it's hair burned and singed. She combs the dolls hair with her fingers, blackened by ash and soot. Her little blue dress, once pretty and brilliant, was dull, ripped across her chest with 4 blades from shoulder to rib. She sat there and looked up as her innocent face went from a sad frown to a grin of happiness. She got up and quickly hopped up the stairs, one at a time, toward another darken hallway. Her giggling could be heard reverberating off of the walls. All of a sudden a strange sound filled the air, bellowing from every corner of the stairwell...SCRREEEEEEECCCCHHH. Sparks flew as the sparks crawled up the handrail toward the hallway where the girl skipped, giggling joyfully.

"Here little piggy," a horrible sound bellowed in the air. The raspy whisper of his voice silenced everything around him. He slowly stalked into the darken hallway and all was silent. No footsteps could be heard, no breathing; just the sound of silence.

"AAAAAHHHHH!," screamed the little girl followed by the shrieking sound of blades hitting metal and back into a soft squishy, wet material, like raw meat hitting the ground. Soon the raspy voice called into the stairwell but this time was of a joyous horror. He was laughing.

He walked back into the dim light of the stairwell cleaning his hand with his sweater. He looked down and saw Cara, staring back at him, in full fear. Her hands shook violently at her sides as she tried to keep herself still. "How sweet...fresh meat." He started walking toward the stairwell, taking the steps slowly as he sulked toward Cara. She was far back as she could be, meeting the wall with a loud thud from her back. His hand was dressed in blades one on each finger. His face burned and seeping with pus and blood from blisters along his cheeks. His hat, brown and torn, covered his eyes. She wanted to know so badly to see what this thing walking toward her, even more excited as he approached her. He looked up and she saw the icy blue eyes that sent chills up and down her spine. He cocked his head to the side, staring into her green eyes. His eyes widen as he felt her fear radiate off of her.

"What's a matter, Cara. Cat got your tongue?, " He said looking down at her partly open mouth, exposing the top parts of bottom row teeth.

"Who are you?," she finally said after trying to control the fear within her voice; it was to no avail. "You'll know soon enough, little piggy," he replied taking his bladed hand outlining the curves of her jaw down the side of her neck. She cringed and felt the tears well in her eyes. The finally fell and landed on one of his blades. With a smile he licked the tears from his blades. His blade went back to her face, how he wanted to feel her skin rip, feel the inside give way under his blades. He nicked her cheek as he drew the blade across. Cara whimpered at the pain, but was grabbed soon by his burned hands. She felt the rough grip of his skin brush her soft petite arms.

"You wanna know the secret of pain? If you just stop feeling it, you can start using it". He giggled as he raised his blade, showing the thin blood trail across the edge. "You and I are gonna have some fun," he whispered into her ear. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

** That's just a start but it was only a test to what I can work on. Let me know what you think.**