The screaming won't stop. It has to stop. But I can't stop running, even though I can't feel my legs. Keep going. He's right behind you. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop to breathe. Don't stop to cry. Don't stop to scream. Move your legs faster. The screaming is overpowered by the sound of mechanical shredding. My tongue is dry, and swollen – I've bitten it dozens of times now, just so I won't waste my breath screaming. He's right behind you. Don't stop. No breathing. No crying. No screaming. Shit, blood is slowly beginning to pool from a puncture wound in my cheek – at least my mouth isn't as dry. I'm running faster than I thought I could. My ankle doesn't hurt, which is odd because when I woke up it definitely didn't look healthy. Don't stop. Don't think, don't breathe, don't cry, don't scream. The list keeps expanding. I'd never thought I took screaming for granted – but boy I sure did. Never have I wanted to let my lungs explode with the beautiful, throat-burning sensation more. If I could just stop, even for a little while, I would cry for jubilance. The screaming is back. I can't stop, oh god I just can't – not now, there's a light! Beautiful, sweet euphoria – there's a light!
Screaming.
"Get it out of her!"
Oh god why won't it stop.
"We can't do that, it could be fatal,"
MAKE IT STOP.
"I don't give a shit, just do it."
Endless screaming.
Don't stop. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don't stop. Can't breathe. Can't cry. Can't scream. My throat is numb now, but I don't dare make a sound. My limbs are trembling and I feel like I'm going to fall through ice. Imagining the way ice would feel on my flaming skin just makes me sink even further into my own mind. But I have to stay alert. I can hear the shredding ripping apart the humid night; my lungs aren't taking in any air – for fear of being discovered. The rust my hands are pressed up against itches, but I don't have time to rake my nails against my skin. Stop breathing. Stop crying. Don't scream. I want help, oh Jesus I need help. It's louder. I can hear him. He's breathing. He's breathing. He's breathing. My neck. I can feel it. He's breathing. I'm crying. I'm not breathing. I'm not screaming.
Help.
"They're through the roof,"
Please help me.
"We're trying, you need to breathe."
HELP ME!
"Can you stabilize her?"
HE'S BEHIND ME.
"FUCK."
I'm falling through indigo. An endless sea of indigo, wrapping me in its graceful tranquility. I've never felt anything more calm than its embrace – covering my skin in an ice so warm I might melt. I can stop now. I can breathe. I can cry… Best of all I can scream – and I don't think I'm ever going to stop. My eyes and mouth are shut, all I am and all I ever have been is just drifting through this sea. Through the untainted serenity of everything. I'm no longer bound by gravity – my limbs have dissipated, along with the rest of my body. All I am now is a single, nonexistent thought. Nothing matters now… just the indigo. The indigo is everything. I can scream.
Nothing but the indigo.
"We're losing her."
Just me and the indigo.
"Get the defibrillator."
Blue biographies.
"Paddles."
Suffocating my skin.
Oh no. I can hear screaming. He's behind me. The noises are ripping me apart. There's only scarlet now. It's everywhere. Help me. God, help me. Fuck, fuck, he's ripping me apart – his hands are on my skin. Get him off! Make it stop! I can't move, I'm nothing. I can't breathe. I can't make him stop. I can't scream. He's filling me up with his hate. It's burning me. Where is God? Help me. Fuck. Make it stop. Oh my god. He's everything. He's everywhere. I can't make it stop. I can't breathe. I can't scream. I need to scream. Oh my god. Help me. Please.
HE'S ON ME.
"Her condition is stabilized,"
GOD HELP ME.
"The bleeding is stopping."
Please help me.
"I see the head."
He's in me.
He's gone now. He's left me and now I am empty. The indigo has fled, and the scarlet's famine was cured. It is only me and the transparency now. We are floating – hand in hand. She is whispering sweet everythings to me, promising she'll always stand beside me. Her kiss freezes me. Never have I longed for anything more than to join her in this emptiness. It's so beautiful. I can hear her screaming. Her screams make my knees jelly, the way they serenade me. They fill my ears with their sweet terror. This emptiness fills me with her. We are nothing. She is nothing. This is perfection.
Screaming.
"It's a girl."
Sweet nothing.
"She's not crying."
Screaming.
"Emma, stop."
Voices.
"Stop it, Emma, its over. She's here."
A soaked protuberance in my arms.
"Emma, it's your baby."
I don't want it.
"Emma, stop screaming – take the baby out of here."
This nothing is bliss. All the screams were mine. My beautiful screams.
-OHKAY. Well that was interesting. I actually really like how this turned out. Second installment to an expanding group of stories revolving around Tommy, from TCM. This really doesn't have anything to do with him, it's just about Emma – the woman he raped in my story "Pretty". This is, if you didn't know, a very tiny oneshot about her giving birth. The entire time she's having a flashback, and throughout the whole thing the screaming is her. There will be a third installment (I doubt that will be the last of them) which will be longer than this one, possibly larger than the first as well. I already have that one started and know essentially everything I want to happen in that one. I have a few ideas for the fourth installment. All this started out as just an odd idea and me being pissed off that Tommy talked in ALL OF THE MOFOING TCM stories. Because people are stupid and disrespect how it should be xD. Anyways thanks for reading (: I hope the people who commented on the first installment enjoyed this one as well (even though it lacked Tommy).. He'll be in the next one, don't worry c:!. Anyways, review dears 3!