Title: Blood Stained Carpet
Category: Anime/Manga ยป Inuyasha
Author: Saye
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst
Published: 08-01-09, Updated: 08-01-09
Chapters: 1, Words: 1,188
Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Read at your own risk.
I was laying in bed a few nights ago and I couldn't get this idea out my head so I decided to write about it. This will be a dark one-shot AU from Kagome's perspective. No character death. I wanted to get a person who's been abused perspective. Not all the time are they scared and trying to escape. I wanted to write about someone who is almost gone insane after the abuse. Normal on the outside but so emotionally scarred that they have a twisted sense of what's right.
Please review and let me know what you think.
Thump.... thump.... thump.... thump....
As I walk home, I listen to my footsteps on the sidewalk. Or is that the sound of my heart beating erratically? Yes, it's the sound of my heart. It could not be my feet for my uncle had made it perfectly clear that I am not to be heard. Because of that, my feet are silent.
My body is numb, mentally and physically perparing for what was about to come. There is no doubt in my mind, no escaping.
Looking down, I realize my hands are clenched in fear. White-knuckled and cold. Slowly, I unclench them, feeling a slight pain from having them grasped together so hard for such a long amount of time.
My feet come to a stop.
Thump.. thump.. thump.. thump..
Definitely the sound of my heart, for my feet have stopped but the sound has become louder.. faster.
I look to my right, the sweet elderly woman who lives next door greets me with a pleasant smile. I smile back, even if the smile is a fake mask that others have put there. Oh, they had suspicions but they choose to ignore them. Let them live in their cozy little homes surrounded by a white picket fence full of self-deception and lies.
I bid the woman goodnight. She, of course, tells me to give her greetings to my uncle as well. Greetings, I will not pass on.
The door to my-- no, his house opens without a sound. Closes without a sound. I take one step in, two, and hold my breath. He is not home yet, however, this is no relief to me. Despite it not happening now, it is only prolonging the inevitable.
I slip off my shoes and place them in the closet. Neat. Tidy. I smooth out a wrinkle in the floor-mat before I continue into the house. I begin to clean. Washing half-empty glasses filled with booze, sweeping cigarette butts off the floor, fluffing couch pillows and so on.
I look down at the carpet in the living room. White. A sort of twisted, mutated giggle slips through my lips. White is the colour of innocence, it has nothing to hide. No lies, no pain, no stains...
Suddenly, the door is opened and then closed. And I know the time has arrived. I quickly straighten my back, stand with my legs together, feet facing forwards, hands together and head bowed.
Welcome home, I greet him.
There is no reply but I dare not look up. I know better. I can smell the alcohol on him but that makes no difference. The beatings happen whether he's sober or not. The reasons for the beatings are the only thing that changes when he drinks.
Smack
The first strike, there will be more to come but no more to the face. He will not strike my face too hard. He knows better. He is much too smart for that. People would no longer be able to deny their suspicions if I showed up to school or work with a bruise on my face. No, he is too smart.
The beatings continue, they throw my body this way and that way. Soon, I am laying on the floor. My lip is bleeding for my biting down. He will not be happy about that. He raises his foot to kick me in the stomach and I flinch. I curl myself into a tight ball. His foot connects with my eyebrow. Oh, he will not be happy.
I should know better to flinch. Stupid girl, I should be used to this. Ever since I was a little girl, he has been making me into a better person.
Yes, I know you think it's sick but he is helping me. When the first beatings began, he'd tell me I was ugly, stupid. That no one will ever love me. I was angry at first, hurt but then I realized what he was saying. Truth. Everything he says is true. Listen to him, accept everything he gives you. I will never be worthy but he is trying to make me a better person.
So I'll accept what he gives me.
I know what people would say, 'Why don't you try to escape?', 'Run away.'
A giggle escapes my lips again. The beatings get harder and his yelling gets louder. Oh, but not too loud. The neighbors would here. The noise would carry over those white picket fences and into their cozy little homes. No, he is too smart.
I have tried to escape, thinking what he says is a lie. I was wrong. It didn't matter though, he would find me. He would put on a kind smile in front of people, telling me how he missed me and that he was worried. Then he would take me home and behind a closed door, he would be me hard. And each time I tried to escape, the beatings would get harder. So I accepted what he gives to me.
The beatings stop and he stumbles out the door, keeping his cool outside because he is much too smart. I hear the engine start and his car pull out of the driveway.
Cough.. cough.. cough..
Blood leaks from my mouth at every cough. My eyes are blurry and my head heavy.
I know what people would say, 'Get up! Run away. This time you could escape. He's drunk and will not be back for the next three days. He has a business trip. You will be far away by the time he returns. He will never find you.'
I look down at the carpet, now stained red. I know I could get away this time. However, that is only a thought in the back of my head and quickly ignored, or is it forgotten?
I will not run away. The sad, sick part of that is, I will not run because I need to get the blood stains out of the carpet.