hey guys and girls! this is my fanfic of how to train your dragon. i know there isn't anything from how to train your dragon yet but chapter two im adding it. i know its horribly depressing and im sorry but it gets better. this is one of my first fanfics so feel free to give me advice and grammar stuff. and dont worry i havent forgotten to say her name you will find it out later on ;) well anyways i hope you enjoy!
chapter 1
"Have you ever paid yourself the compliment of not quitting?"
"Have you ever thought that maybe this isn't the right path?"
"What if it is?"
With all these paths, adventures, dreams, and hopes, cascading together. Careening through space and time; multiple universes calling home to your dreams, your happiness and your humanity. Yet through them all, the millions of paths to take, dreams to follow, choices to make, you have chosen this exact path, this straight arrow to a destination unknown."
"Is it right?"
"Is this what you wanted?"
The words tumbled from her mouth in garbled breaths and gulps. Tears ran down her frail face without notice and landed upon her shaking hands, creating tiny pools of cool water. She stared down at her hands, taking time to study each vein muscle and bone. The scars of her grievances stood out like red roses in a sea of white upon her wrists. The wounds had scabbed over on her skin but it was clear they were always there, a constant reminder, of the path she chose. Her tired eyes travelled upwards to study the wrinkles and rivets that inhabited her slender fingers, the tips of them were black from rubbing at the running eyeliner that surrounded her wide hazel eyes. Then upon her finger nails laid the chipped remains of the black nail polish that she had become accustomed to. She wore it every day, never having the energy to remove the black stains. They showed how she felt, broken, ugly and forgotten. It was almost as if they were a silent plea for help, unrecognized by even her. A silver tape recorder was grasped tightly in her palm. Its featureless face and black buttons looked almost as if it understood what was happening, why it was being used. A tiny red light blinked in the corner of the device, signaling that unlike many others it was listening to every word she uttered. "It's funny what you can see by just looking" she spoke quietly to herself, as she had many times before. "If you took the chance to look at anyone, to study them, you would realize they aren't what they seem." She continued to gaze down at her hands, the tiny rivers of salt water slowly decreasing, and then stopping altogether. "If you took the moment, the chance, to look at me, even stare, I don't care. I just want you to see how far I've floated away from reality, from life, from everything. I'm floating, flying even. I'm like a balloon I can only go so high before I pop; everyone else is kites, grasped in the hands of their loved ones who can hold them securely to the ground and protect them. They glide in beautiful arcs, travelling in many directions and at many speeds. Sometimes they may come colliding to the ground, losing a certain dream, but yet that person, that tether, always comes to make them fly once again. Where is my tether? I'm getting so close to the clouds, I can feel them, why isn't anyone pulling me back down? Why aren't they telling me its okay? That it never happened?" she choked in the sobbing as she buried her face into the recorder. Her long hair drifted forward, forming curtains around her face. The faded dirty blonde ends brushing against her thighs as she curled into a ball. She took several hurried breaths to calm her frightened heart. Then she spoke into the recorder, her voice barely raising above a whisper, "tonight, I'm taking a path, the path that I've been craving to take for so long but never had the courage to. With all these different paths and destinations, I know you are asking why I chose this, specific path. I will tell you why. It all started when I was thirteen. I was a freshman, like many others of my age group. I came to high school with a blurry past of absolute uselessness, I was nobody special, and I hadn't done anything notable. Many of those first weeks I spent with my head pressed against the cold brown surface of my school desk; ear buds always stuck in my ears listening to whatever took me away from reality. Many times the teachers would yell at me and scold me for listening to music while they blabbed about things that held no interest to me. The other girls with makeup and cosmetics plastered upon their faces like trophies would giggle their fake titters, their russet lips slithering back to reveal perfect straight teeth that only cost the fortune of a small house. All the while they waved their bleached and burned tresses back and forth in some outlandish mating ritual. The boys would watch the painted dolls with saliva dripping from their mouths, as if they were rearing wolves with the scent of a she-wolf in heat upon their noses. The wolves would take the dolls to some strange gathering, touching them and taking them away to be their own for the night. The dolls would drink it all up, literally. It disgusts me to even be near them, to even hear their tactless conversations and many 'conquests' as they put it. I wear makeup too, I'm not going to lie and say I don't, just so I can't be compared to the dolls. I do but there is a huge difference in the reason as to why I wear makeup. By lining my eyes with black kohl and putting foundation on my many blemishes, I feel like myself. I can look in the mirror, and see myself staring back. I don't do it to get 'conquests' I do it to show that unlike the dolls, I am myself."
"Maybe that's why they did it"
"The wolves in my class, they would always curl their gums into some sort of polluted smile whenever I walked in, wearing the unavoidably skimpy uniform that was mandatory for gym class. The routine was always the same, first stretching, then lessons, then the 3km run into the local trails around my school. Being the only non-doll in my class, I always maintained my distance from the dogs hoping the dolls and their strange antics would keep them busy. It worked every day until that Monday, that day, when the wolves decided I should join the dolls. It was the time to run in the trails and I waited my usual minute before running to make sure I wasn't running near the others. I didn't think they would wait for me. As I jogged by one of the large trunks that ran along the old trail, my headphones in and blasting. They hunted me and I was oblivious to the very last moment before one of the wolves tackled me to the ground. My face hit the gravel trail with a crash, instantly filling my mouth with dirt and scraping my face. I fought the wolf and struggled to get up but another wolf came and added his weight to the hunt. The first wolf, I call him jock because he was the size of a small car and had the typical blonde hair and blue eyes that dolls loved. The second wolf, I called Devil because of his red drugged up eyes and his stark black hair. Devil, out of the both of them was the worst. Jock had brute strength and had pinned me down as devil laughing manically, bound my hands and feet and stuck a dirty rag into my mouth. Jock then threw me over his shoulder and carried me deeper into the forest as I struggled against my bonds, screaming against the rag. Devil walked behind jock, his face level with mine as we went. He would occasionally lean forward whisper perverted comments into my ear, as jock smacked and fondled my rear. When we finally reached our destination, jock threw me down upon the forest floor. I felt a branch dig into my side and my head smashed against a rock. I saw stars while jock started to pull my pants down to my ankles, but stopped. His hands were trembling; he looked like a deer caught in the head lights. He didn't even get a chance to say anything before devil knocked him out of the way, sending him sprawling into a tree where he stayed and watched. Devil smiled manically and threw my pants away, taking no time to run his filthy hands up and down along my legs occasionally touching the place between my legs. I trembled and cried but there was no one to stop him. He quickly removed all my clothing, making fun of my flaws and fears. He straddled me and started sloppily kissing me, even though I bit and screamed at him. Then suddenly he got off of me and pulled a piece on fabric out of his pants pocket, he quickly came up to me and covered my eyes with it, whispering to me that I didn't want to see what was about to happen. I heard him walk away from my body, and say something to jock who didn't respond. Then I heard the sound of fabric rustling and suddenly my legs were forced open and he entered me. I screamed as the pain cascaded over my body, but he didn't stop, he kept forcing himself into me and moaning as he was enjoying himself. Then I felt the rag being removed from my mouth and I tried to scream but two meaty hands forced their way into my mouth, keeping it open and jock forced himself into my throat making me choke and gag. They both were inside my unwilling body and I could smell their stench and hear their moans of contempt. This continued for hours it seemed, there was no end to the pain and the humiliation. That was until I felt a hot sticky liquid on my stomach and not shortly after one on my face. I rolled over and puked in disgust, trembling in fear; then devil took the veil off my eyes. He said if you tell anyone about this I will do this to you a thousand more times, with knifes. Then he knocked me out and everything went black. I woke up an hour later, when the sun was setting. I struggled to move but my whole body was a blur of pain and torture. I eventually crawled over to my uniform, somehow managed to get it on, and then limped home."
"I never said a single word to anyone since then"
"I never told anyone what had happened, my drunken mother and absentee father wouldn't have cared anyway. I haven't gone back to school since then, I didn't have any friends who cared about me. I'd rather just stay here where none of the dogs can get me. That was a week ago and the bruises are still purple and swollen against my flesh. The scabs on my wrists still open and bleed if I bend the wrong way, but I don't feel it, I have felt a larger pain. So this is why I am going to die, right now"
She stared at the recorder blankly; there wasn't any doubt in her eyes. "This is the path I have chosen, given what shitty a life I've been given, I'm surprised I've lived this long. So goodbye potential paths, dreams, and adventures. I'm going to a place unknown where no one can touch me or push me down." She drew in a disgusted breath, "I still can't get that vile taste out of my mouth"
She gently pushed the stop button on the recorder, feeling as if her own heart stopped with the red light. She laid it down on the desk; her fingers gently tracing the silver casing forlornly. She pulled out a sticky note and wrote 'last words' on it in scribbled writing, then stuck it to the device. Not a single tear fell, she knew what she was doing, and she wanted this. Her hand drifted across the desk coming to a slow halt above the kitchen knife. She remembered using this knife to chop vegetables for her mother's soup when she got too drunk and couldn't feed herself. She had also used this knife to cut her wrists, it was sharp enough and it dug into the flesh almost painlessly quick. Her hand curled around the handle and she lifted it off the desk and brought it to her throat. "Maybe I should've said that bastards name on the tape" she sighed "whatever"
There was the noise of liquid splashing the ground.