Mercy Me
She was never one to favor subtlety. She always seemed to say exactly what was on her mind. She knows that drives him crazy. That's the exact reason why she does it.
"Tact" he says. But then, he can be a bit obtuse. He'll never say one word when twenty will do.
He's the silent type. And he even may seem like the strong type too. But he is not at all as what he seems. He's a coward underneath his intimidating interior. He's scared but won't admit it. On the other hand, she's brave. However, That doesn't mean she isn't scared. Because she is scared. Probably more frightened than he is but the difference between the two of them is that she admits it. Being brave doesn't mean you're not afraid. It means admitting you are and moving forward.
The sad thing is, she's no longer brave. She's lost her mind. She's insane. Those sleepless nights she spent crying over her mama turned in to sleepless months screaming to the white walls. Her breathing turned ragged. Her eyes were dull. She can no longer see. No longer feel. Just red. Don't get me wrong, the colors were all gone. Well, except one. But you could hardly call it a color. A urge might be a better word for it. The urge for red.
The blood.
She craved it.
She needed to see it.
The sin.
The red.
The blood.
For it to be spilt.
Across the floor.
On her.
Anywhere. Just for it to be there. She wants it more than anything else.
She tries to imagine what it might be like.
The smell.
The feel.
The taste.
But it's not enough.
Not nearly enough to feed her craving. Her eyes search for any kind of red. But it is not there. The walls are mocking her.
Red.
Red.
Red.
They seem to chant it over and over. But the walls are not red at all. So why is red all she sees? All she hears? Why won't it leave? The red. It's so close to her. She can almost taste it. Almost. She needs red. Needs it so bad. More than anything else. She needs to kill someone, anyone. She just needs to see the red. She cries it out to the walls. But they don't respond.
"I need red."
Red.
Red.
Red.
"I need to see red. Blood. Anything. Just red."
Red.
Red.
Red.
"I need to see blood. I need to see it. Please."
Red.
Red.
Red.
"I need it."
Red.
Red.
Red.
"Please please please please PLEASE I NEED TO SEE RED!"
Red.
Red.
Red.
"Just the...red...please."
She's crying now. Tears of frustration. She lives to see red. Otherwise she'll end up dead. She tries to stay sane. She's holding on to her last shard of sanity but it only makes her worse.
"I. NEED. RED."
No. No, I don't. I don't.
Red.
Red.
Red.
I hate this.
I hate who I am.
I hate who I've become.
I hate who I was.
Red.
Red.
Red.
I need it.
No, I don't.
I live for it.
No.
I live for red.
I DON'T.
Red.
Red.
Red
I hate this.
I hate red.
No, you need it.
You crave red.
NO, I DON'T!
Red.
Red.
Red.
I'm sick of you and tired of me.
Red.
Red.
Red.
I just need red.
Just red.
Nothing else.
NO!
Red.
Red.
Red.
Even when I close my eyes I see red. It's not there but it is.
Red.
Red.
Red.
I hate you.
Damn you.
Red.
Red.
Red.
Mama.
Red.
Mama?
Red.
Mama!
Red.
MAMA!
She opens her eyes. No red. She closes them.
I don't need it.
Yes. You do.
I don't.
You crave it.
No!
You'll kill for it.
NO!
You will.
Red.
Red.
Red.
Kill.
Live.
Breathe.
Die.
Happiness.
Red.
Red.
Red.
She opens her eyes again and he's here. Finally she sees red. His clothes soaked with her mothers' blood. It's very red and very beautiful.
She doesn't know how he got here or even why he is here she just simply stares. He stares back. She opens her mouth to speak but only two words can worm their way out of her throat.
"Love me."
Those words were strong even though the way she said it made it sound more like a request than a command. It was clear to both of them that she needed him and he needed her more than anything. He was what she craved. They were two of a kind.
But his only answer,
"I can't. I won't."
She didn't falter,
"Why?"
"I don't know how."
I overused the word 'red'. I know. Don't kill me. Anyways, this is the longest chapter for this fic I've ever typed. I'm happy with it. It's pretty sadistic, though. But I'm a pretty sadistic person. Don't let the Care Bear Pajamas throw you. If I'm not mistaken I think the lemon will be in the next chapter...I hope.
Oh and I drew a picture for this fic. It's on Deviant Art. I posted it late at night while I was at a friends house...So yeah the link to it is in my profile. My brother helped me with the shading and I wouldn't exactly say it's phenomenal or anything but I am proud of it. If Van Gogh had my attitude he wouldn't have had to chop his ear off. So I'm out to try and finish the next chapter my other fic, Little Miss Disaster which hopefully I can post by today. Later.
-Lauren