Okay, new story...a little odd...but oh well. Hope you like and even if you don't lease reveiw. It'll make my day!
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Hatred. It's an odd thing, it can ripe you apart. It can drive you to the edges of insanity. It can make you weep tears, and it can make it rain blood…
The girl looked around, searching the walls of the white room. There was nothing in here, not that there had ever been anything. Not that the world had ever held anything for her. There had never been anything for her in the world.
Nothing.
But now there was something, a small something, a little spark of hatred, a spark of desire. It was small, weak, but it was still there. Growing inside her. Her hatred.
The man who came, who walked through that white door every day. She hated him.
At first she wasn't sure, she thought that this feeling was something different, maybe it was love, caring, maybe it was something genuine.
But now she knew, there was no such thing as love in this world. Not that she knew of anyway. She had never seen it, never felt it. It was a mystery to her, but she knew it would always be a mystery. There was nothing she could do about it, not from this room. Not while that man watched her, stalked her, noticed her. Oh how she hated that man, the way his eyes followed her, and the blank glares he gave her when she looked him in the eyes. Hatred for him was what kept her alive now.
Why should she bother, why should she care? Her life consisted of these white walls, that metal bed, that squeaky door. Food came three times a day, and the bathroom breaks every now and then when she asked for them.
There was no way out of this place, there never would be. Starvation was impossible, they would force feed you. Suicide wasn't possible, there was nothing she could do for that, and besides she was too afraid to die for now.
But she was constantly pondering the question about life. What was the point of it? She remembered being in the outside world, outside of these white walls. There was nothing out there either, no love, no life, no anything.
Maybe it was just her she thought, maybe she was different. Struggling to remember the faces of her parents, she wondered if they loved another, if maybe life was worth something to them. But like trying to keep the water cupped in your hands, their faces blurred and disappeared. Was there really something so special about this all?
The dull lifeless eyes of that man floated into her mind and she cringed, was he happy? No.
He was not happy, he was like her. Just like her, except the rest of the world couldn't see it, they couldn't see the madness in his eyes. The crazed glare. Somehow they couldn't see it. And she wondered why…
Was that really all the world had to offer her? All that talk about God, heaven, the good in life. There was no good here. There was nothing here…
"There is no point in my life. No point in my staying alive." She said aloud. Her voice echoed off the walls, catching her by surprise. She looked around, wishing that someone was here with her, but she knew no one was. No one ever was.
She was alone. Minus that man. But he didn't count; he didn't want to be there in the first place, so he didn't count. Glancing around again, she sat down on the bed. It squeaked under the weight.
Digging through her pillow she pulled out that old pocket knife, the one she had gotten long ago. From the outside world, before her world consisted of white.
She smiled at the small flash of color, it was nice. A forest green. Carefully, ever so carefully she flipped the blade out. It was surprising, that it had stayed in such good condition for so long. When she had bothered to touch it in so long. The edge was still sharp she noted running her thumb along the edge.
Slowly, delicately she pressed it t her skin. The cold metal sent shivers down her arm. She pressed harder and a thin red line appeared. Digging it in, the pain, the only thing she felt anymore. The only thing that could make her remember. The only thing that could make her feel. She pressed harder. And harder, until she felt it washing over her. It hurt so much. A faint rush of adrenalin came charging through her system. She hadn't felt like this in…so long…
She smiled, knowing that it would all be okay. She had nothing left to lose now, nothing left to gain.
This was it…this was the end. She dipped her fingers in the blood on her skin. Standing on the wobbly bed she touched the ceiling. Running her hands on it. Reaching for the sky on last time before she fell.
She wondered if that man would notice. Would he care? Would some emotion show up in those blank eyes?
Laughing aloud she realize she didn't care. Not anymore. She figured, she had never really cared in the first place. That was life. She laughed again. The sound echoed in the small room. The silver blade glinted in the harsh fluorescent light.
And then the world turned red.
A loving wife and daughter.
She will always be remembered.
1984-2010
Blank grey eyes stared at the tombstone. For some reason the man felt nothing as he stood there. He wondered why. He had cared about her hadn't he? He had told her once that she was his life. But if she was his life, then why wasn't his life over? She was dead.
He looked down at the grass, just starting to push through the soil over her grave. She had been dead a long time ago he realized. There was no point in trying to say it wasn't true.
She had died long before her body went underground.
"Do you love me?" She smiled at the man holding his hand, her thumb making careful circular motions on his.
"I will love you forever."
"Are you sure?" A smile played at her lips as she laughed, a cheerful sound, like wind chimes or maybe bells.
"Sure enough that I would follow you to the ends of the earth." He leaned down and kissed her lips, brushing them softly.
"Say it to the world. Prove it to me." She demanded.
"I love you." His voice was soft; quiet…"you are my world."
She looked up into his gray eyes and smiled, there was a light in them, a sparkle…that made her believe him. He would never leave her, she was sure of it. She smiled up at him…she loved him…so much…
"I never want to leave your side…" His warm fingers twirled her hair, caressed her face and body.
"I'll make sure you never do…" And he held her close, so close. As if he was afraid she'd slip away if he let go…
The man looked at the gravestone again, and turned and walked back into the compound. Walked through the white hallways and clear sterile rooms…until he got to the one room he always went to. Her room.
He fumbled with his keys for a moment before unlocking the door. The stench wafted over him and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. They still hadn't cleaned it.
Dried blood covered the walls, the bed, the floor…the reddish black substance was everywhere.
There was so much of it too. He wondered how much blood the human body held. He had known that fact once, but couldn't strain his memory to remember it.
How long did it take her to die? He pondered as he walked over and sat on the bed, a bit of blood flaked off.
Was it quick or did it take her hours? Why didn't anyone notice it…this place…there were people everywhere. It was their job to notice.
Why wasn't I here? That's a stupid question he realized the moment after he made it. I was never here. I was never here for her. Not when she needed me. Never when she wanted me. I was never here. I hated it here.
He reached out and touched the blood on the bed. Where did she die again? Was it on the floor or on the bed? Ah…the floor. An image of her body, pale and limp. Wide staring eyes. Lifeless eyes. He lowered himself to the floor, lying down.
Staring up at the white ceiling, thinking, remembering. His mind playing tricks on him. All those memories…they flashed before his eyes.
Why? Why did she leave me? I was supposed to hold on to her forever, but she…she slipped away.
He looked up at the white ceiling and wondered…what went through her mind. What caused her to be…so different.
"And do you take this man to be our lawful wedded husband?"
"I do."
"And do you sir; take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?"
He looked over at her; she looked beautiful, splendid in her white gown.
"I do." For a moment not a word was said, the church was silent. And then he took her in his arms and kissed her. Even before the pastor said they could. When she asked him about it later, he said he just couldn't wait…she was too beautiful, too perfect. He just couldn't wait to have her.
"I love you." He spoke aloud, and it echoed. It scared him; it had never done that when she was in the room with him. Did it do that when she was in here all alone?
He sighed. She had always been alone. Always.
Even when he was here, she was alone. Trapped inside herself, afraid to come out. Or maybe she wasn't, maybe she was right. It was better to live inside yourself than to give your life away…
Maybe she had the right idea…he looked up at the white ceiling, painted in blood, was a small heart.
Was that meant for him? Was she thinking of him in her last hours…her last minutes?
No…he knew…their memories, their life had been forgotten by her long ago.
Such a long time ago.
He stood, and brushed himself off. The scar over his heart felt cold for a moment and he ran his fingers over it.
No…she didn't remember.
She had no reason to remember.
Love…
It wasn't for her.
She had forgotten.
She had long ago forgotten.
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