Shattered Paradise
Chapter 7: Every Time
A/N: Hmmm, Seth's probably about 3 or so. Old enough to talk, but young enough to still be cute, I guess…manda bear, you read the whole thing before and after the new chapter?! Wow. :)…And Andi, I know you already read this on the message boards, so I don't know if you'll get this note here, but yes, I have read your stories. They're amazing, and I'm seriously honored that you read mine. Thanks…Okay, I made some notes for what I wanted to put into this chapter, and then I sat down to write it and didn't really follow my notes at all…It's a little bit sad, and I think I've already scared the hell out of a few people…So, with that in mind…
A flash of lightning and rolling thunder. Like a freight train in the night. One coming to run her over, to run her down. She could see the bright lights, hear the whistle, the screaming of the engine. But she couldn't move.
She was there again. In her own personal hell, with her very own devil looming over her. Menacing and dark and freakish. Features somehow twisted, not at all like she remembered him.
But then again, she had been trying to forget. She would know him if she saw him, but not because of his face. It had taken her almost a year to erase that face from memory and she had finally succeeded.
Almost.
Because she could still see the outline of his features. The crisp moonlight had slipped in the window beside the bed, giving everything an eerie glow. She wished that it wasn't a moonlit night. She wished that she couldn't see him.
But it didn't matter. Even when she closed her eyes, he was there. His haunting features dancing ghostlike before her eyes. She could still feel his greasy hands sliding over her skin, staining her, tainting her.
She tried to scream, but his lips were over hers before she had even opened her mouth. She felt the sudden hard chill of metal pressed against, scraping smoothly along her skin, startlingly familiar.
But he wasn't drawing blood. Not yet. That would come later.
She wasn't even chained down, but she still couldn't move. She was still on the tracks and the train was drawing frightfully closer. She could count down the seconds now…
Ten…
His rough hands moved down her face, slid down her neck. She thought she felt them tighten for a moment, making her gasp for air. She almost wished that he would do it and be done with it. She almost wished that the damn train would come faster, splattering her against the tracks.
But then two things struck her, one from without and one from within.
One was him, bringing his hands away from her neck and sliding them down her arms. He couldn't take her breath away, not until he was finished. And he wasn't finished, he was moving at a painstaking pace, almost making her think that time had stopped…
Nine…
But it hadn't. She knew because she could still count down the seconds. She knew because she could still feel the pressure from within. Her baby, hers and Michael's, was kicking against her, reminding her that if she died, the little life inside her would die too.
And then she was glad that he hadn't strangled her. Then she could endure this torture. But just barely…Just barely…Just barely…
Not for much longer. Soon it would all come crashing back. Soon it wouldn't matter if he killed her or not. Soon she would be as good as dead…
Eight…
He was still there. His tongue was still crawling across her skin.
And her tears were still burning their way down their cheeks. The cold metal pressed harder against her. Hot and cold, and fire and ice all mixed into one.
And then there was blood, sticky and shining, trickling down her skin.
But she was almost glad. Then she could focus on something other than him. She could keep her mind on the pain. Then she loved the pain. She wanted more…
Seven…
She was glad she couldn't remember. Glad she had been almost dead when this had happened before. She didn't think she would have been able to survive if she had felt him do this to her.
She couldn't remember the last time, but she knew that this was how it had been. Something told her. It was like she had really been awake when it happened, but the memory had been stolen from her.
And now she was remembering. She was remembering it all. All that she could never really remember, because she had never really known.
She was glad she had been unconscious, glad that memory had been stolen, and wished this one could be too…
Six…
Black. Swirling and dark and angry. Making everything fade in front of her. The moon was hidden behind a cloud. So maybe it did have feelings after all. It had decided to leave her in the dark.
But then there was a sudden flash. And she could see again. It was the lightning, teasing and mocking and laughing. Back to haunt her. Back to outline his face, back to make her see the blood. Back to show her what was real.…
Five…
The thunder followed, growling in anger. A deafening crash, a magnificent roar. But at least the thunder was helpful. It blocked the sound of him from her ears. Even if it was only a moment, it was worth it. Every second that she didn't have to hear him, see him, taste him, was worth it. Because she couldn't keep his touch off her, she couldn't keep his putrid stench from invading her nostrils…
Four…
Suddenly, he was off her. He was away from her. He was gone. And she thought that maybe there was an angel up there watching out for her, after all. Maybe someone had answered her prayers.
He disappeared from view and she let herself breathe. Tears of relief flooded her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. He had left her before completely violating her, but all was not right yet…
Three…
Because he was back again. Standing over her. The flash of metal gleaming before her eyes even without the help of the moonlight.
The moon had disappeared. It didn't want to watch. It was afraid.
She was afraid, too.
Two…
He raised the knife over his head and she closed her eyes. This she couldn't watch. This was the part where she always closed her eyes. She could hear herself screaming something, pleading with him. But couldn't make out the words.
He heard her though, and he laughed. Ugly and hellish. And she knew that if she died and ended up in hell, that is how the devil would laugh. A sound worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. She hated that laugh. She could forget his face, but she couldn't forget that laugh…
One…
Light flashed through the room, but it wasn't lightning this time. And as soon as the pain ripped through her body, she wished it was. Now she would have kissed the lightning that she had been cursing just moments before if is could have prevented this.
The pain seared through her, burning her white-hot, making her wish she had never been born, never knew what it meant to live…
She had run out of numbers to count down. She had run out of time….
The train crashed down on her. And that was it. That was the end.
Something was torn from her. Something that she couldn't take back, something that would never heal.
She screamed. A sound that was ripped from the depths of her soul, loud and piercing.
He was holding it over her, and in the light it was gruesome and ugly and dripping with blood. But to her, it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. And she loved it right away.
She cried because he was holding it, because it would never breathe, never laugh, never talk.
Her tears were soaking her cheeks, and she didn't care that he was seeing her cry now. She didn't care about anything anymore. Anything at all.
She closed her eyes as everything started to go hazy. She was still shrieking, still sobbing, but it was weak now. She didn't have the energy anymore. It had dripped away with the blood that had flowed from her when he cut her open. With the blood that was dripping from what he held above her.
He laughed, and placed it, almost gently, into her arms. And she kissed it, the little baby that would never live. Her little baby.
And the tears flowed harder than she thought possible, mixing with the blood that was splashed hopelessly around the room.
He laughed.
Somehow she found the strength, and a bloodcurdling scream ripped itself from her lips.
And then, for the first time that night, the fourth time that week, the twenty-second time that month…she found herself in Michael's arms.
The blood was gone, but her baby wasn't. It was safe inside her where it belonged.
She was still sobbing. The tears wouldn't go away. Michael held her and rocked her gently, showering her with tender kisses, whispered reassurances, and love.
She didn't need to tell him anything. He knew. He knew every time. And every time, she woke up in his arms, safe and sound. Every time, he stayed up with her for hours, even when he had to work the next morning. Every time, he held her until she fell asleep. That's what she knew.
What she didn't know, was that every time, he held her until long after she had finally closed her eyes. And every time, he didn't close his own until the sun had almost peeked in through their bedroom curtains.
And that's how it happened.
Every time…
Okay, everybody take a deep breath…There that's better. Sorry if I scared you, and sorry if that chapter's not any good. I just sat down and started typing, and that's what came up on the screen. Surprised me too, honest…Oh, thanks for all the great reviews, guys. Please keep it up…