Bloody Samara
Disclaimer: I don't own The Ring... But I own the video tape!
Summary: Samara was an only child... Her parents hated her and so many other people thought she was a monster. Then, she started hearing things... Disturbing things...
yingOwari: Sorry I was gone! I had things to catch up on, and I doubt my story Behind Blue Eyes will be finished soon – it was kind of rubbish anyway. Last night and during today I had a strange thought and believed I saw Samara coming out of the television. But then I thought, "Why did she need to kill everyone?"
Thinking about this and after reading SageoWind's story, I got a spark of inspiration. I am a big fan of Sageo's story 'Servants, Obey Thy Masters' and really hope to write like that one day. The idea was from Sageo and you can flame me if you wish. Ta!
Warning: This story may contain swearing and death-related scenes; if you do not like swearing or death-related scenes, please press the 'BACK' button on your window. Thank you - yingOwari.
Scenes may change from Samara's to normal point of view.
Oh, my Gawd! I finally got a review!
rootbeerdemonGoten - Holy crap! A review! I was gonna delete the story thinking it was too rubbish for anyone's liking... Thank you so much for your review! Chapter Two here is for you! Whee! I wuv youuuu!
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II: To the Beginning.
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My life is a bit like a tape. Not like an audio tape, though. A video tape. So, in order for you to understand what I'm going through, or how the whole situation started; we'll have to go back to the infamous beginning of a story, a tape. Get ready.
Pause. Rewind. Play...
You know what's weird? In a few months time, I'm going to be sent out of the house and into the barn to live with the horses. Sadly, I don't know of this yet so I can't reverse the time. It would be good though, to reverse time.
So, tonight I am sitting at the dinner table with my parents - today is my twelth birthday. No-one is here except my mother, father and I. I can hear the chants from my parents saying the words "Happy Birthday to you," about three times, and then a, "Happy Birthday, dear Samara," and then another, "Happy Birthday to you." It's eery and weird. I never really liked that song.
My mother cuts a slice off the cake and puts it onto a plate. Then, she hands the plate to me which I take and nod a thank you. She smiles. She always was a nice person, my mother.
My father, on the other hand, looks at me a grunts. "Happy Birthday, kid." He says. Father was always a grumpy trout. Oh well, I didn't care. I always did love my mother more anyway.
"Well, Samara, what are you planning to do for your birthday?" my mother asks. I think; I don't actually know. While I'm thinking of what to do, a thought hits me. Images. I see images.
I'm thinking; a ring of light in the darkness. Bloodied water. A chair. Flaming teeth going through something I can't guess. Mother staring into the mirror. She's brushing her hair. I can hear my voice, my singing. Mother disappears, along with the mirror. Another mirror. I can see myself in the reflection, walking away. I see my mother looking to where I was and smiling. A nail. A man looking through a window. The ocean from the cliff view. A fly crawling on the screen.
I'm seeing; Something disgusting being pulled from someone's mouth. Something plastic shaking. A well lid closing. A flaming tree. A finger going through the nail. Struggling grubs that turned into people struggling in water. A chair pulling out by a table with a glass of water with a centipede crawling by. A three legged goat limping past a barn door. A horse's eye. The well closing. A box of severed fingers. A flaming tree. The plastic shaking. Mother putting her hair up and turning to stare through the screen. The window, but with no man in it. The chair upside down and spinning. A ladder. Dead horses on a beach, father's horses. My mother jumping off the cliff. The ladder falling. The well closing all the way, showing the ring of light. The ladder falling all the way to the ground. A well in an empty field, and then nothing.
I feel dizzy. I want it to stop. I'm getting a headache.
The images are playing again...
The ring of light in the darkness. Bloodied water. A chair. The flaming teeth. Mother staring into the mirror, brushing her hair...
I clench my eyes close. It continues...
My voice singing. Mother disappears with the mirror. Another mirror. Myself in the reflection, walking away. My mother looking to where I was and smiling. A nail. A man looking through a window. The ocean from the cliff view. A fly crawling on the screen...
Make it stop... Someone make it stop...
Something disgusting being pulled from someone's mouth. Plastic shaking. The well lid closing. A flaming tree. A finger going through the nail. Struggling grubs that turned into people struggling in water. A chair pulling out by a table with a glass of water with a centipede crawling by. A three legged goat limping past a barn door. A horse's eye.
It somehow reminds me of my father's horses...
The well closing. A box of severed fingers. A flaming tree. The plastic shaking. Mother putting her hair up and turning to stare through the screen. The window, but with no man in it. The chair upside down and spinning. A ladder. Dead horses on a beach, father's horses. My mother jumping off the cliff. The ladder falling. The well closing all the way, showing the ring of light. The ladder falling all the way to the ground. A well in an empty field...
It stopped... For now. I take a sigh of relief; mother is looking at me in a conserned way. I give her a weak smile.
"Are you all right, Samara?" she asks, obviously worried. I nod.
My father just snorts and says, "I'm going to check on the horses." He gets up, forces his chair back to the table and walks out, leaving my mother and I alone.
I'm saddened. But I can still see the images...
The ring of light in the darkness.
Bloody water.
A chair.
Flaming teeth going through something.
Mother in a mirror, brushing her hair.
My voice singing in the background.
Mother and the mirror disappears.
Another mirror appears, showing me.
My reflection is backing away from the mirror.
Mother again in her mirror, looking where I was, smiling.
A nail.
A man looking through a window.
A cliff with a view of the ocean.
A fly crawling on the screen.
Something disgusting being pulled out of someone's mouth.
Plastic shaking.
A well lied closing.
A flaming tree.
A finger going through the nail.
Struggling grubs that form into people in water.
A chair being pulled out by a table with a glass of water and a centipede crawling by.
A three legged goat limping by a barn door.
A horse's eye.
The well closing.
A box of severed fingers.
The flaming tree.
The plastic shaking.
Mother putting her hair up and staring through the screen.
The window, but no man in it.
The chair upside down and spinnng.
A ladder.
Dead horses on a beach.
Mother jumping off the cliff.
The ladder falling.
The well closing all the way.
The ring of light.
The ladder falling all the way to the ground.
A well in an empty field.
And then, finally, nothing.
My head is hurting. Everything is spinning. My mother is looking at me as though fearing my head will explode. I wish it would. So then the pain would finally end.
I would have also liked it if my father had just stayed for the rest of my small party. But nooo, he had to be a bastard. Stupid git.
My head still hurts. I feel dizzy. I want to go to sleep. I sigh gently and walk down the stairs from my room. My vision is blurry. All I can see is a blur, and a small amount of what I'm really seeing: the bottom of the stairs. My father is waiting there for me. He looks angry. Maybe he's on his periods.
"Well, Samara, you made quite a scene yesterday. Be glad that your mother is so fond of you; because if she wasn't, I swear, I should have the mind to banish you to the barn." He growls.
I just blink; as though not wanting to bother with his grumpiness. Especially not today – for one , I can't bloody see. Secondly, I've got the headache that could basically deafen me.
I'm thinking; the three-legged goat, limping past the barn door.
I hear a small cry of fear; I'm seeing myself in the mirror. I'm seeing my mother smiling in my direction.
My father glares at me and runs to the room in which the screaming is coming from. It was my mother, it turns out.
My father runs back with my fainted mother in his arms, carrying her bridal style.
"I knew you were trouble when you were a baby!" he shrieks.
Putting my mother down, he grabs a pillow and puts it under her head. He looks at me with pure hatred in his eyes.
Those eyes that reflect the trouble that is coming for me.
He raises his hand, it's flat, like people have their hands when they want another person to shake it in greeting. Except, his hand isn't staying still, he's waving it in a swinging motion and then...
SMACK! His hand makes contact with my face. I put a hand to my sore cheek, but say nothing. No tears fall from my eyes.
Nothing.
My eyes are dry; my cheek is sore, but my eyes are dry.
"Now Samara, if you cause any more fucking trouble, I swear to God, I will banish you to that barn!"
Ooh. Jolly. Now I'm going to have to live with the beasts.
Talk about a messed up beginning, especially on my birthday.