late-may, 2006
…
It was the most stupid decision I have ever made in my life but I did it, I climbed out that window and ran across that backyard on one of the driest days I've had since we moved to Washington, but it almost cost me my life. I wanted to run. I wanted to escape from it all, and I ran as fast as I could push my legs to run through the pain in my abdomen. Run away from what laid within that house, to run away from what I've always known. To run into what I didn't know, to run into what be an escape from everything concerning what was within the three-bedroom rectangular house. My life of waking nightmares.
Things that listened to nearby heartbeats like it was the most precious music to their ears, things that listened so closely to the heartbeats for the liquid that was produced, with each shift of the major organ. The warm liquid that sustained the organisms life, they craved it, the warm liquid that flows in the veins through the tissues that made up muscle's covering the skeletal structure of bones. All held in thin translucent skin so thin and fragile, they loved when everything about those mentioned between their teeth and tasting with their tongue.
Running away from everything that would soon be the end of my life if I stopped trying, running away from everything that would soon make me cave into their every desire. To obey and feed myself, allow to be 'treated special' until they decided to rip me apart and feed on my remains. Like the special treatment wasn't anything I haven't been used to already, the things he allowed the other one do to me is the care of the pits of hell. Terror and adrenaline running through my veins and in my ears as I listened to flight response, wishing I could run faster with the echo of his angry yell of my name, refusing to give up.
I got halfway across the lawn hearing the sound of children playing in the next wide yard over before I was tackled to the ground hard, pain coursed through my upper back as they knocked me down and dragged me back into the kicking and screaming.
The blows to my body which quick and made instant bruises and my fractures in my ribs and in my arms. My screams cutting through the air with a razor-sharp knife and hurting my own ears as they bounced around the room. Giving up was something that was foreign to me and I always pushed my limits, which lead to these moments. Sometimes the words hurt more than physical. Sometimes I really wish I had to strength to fight back. Sometimes I really wished they would stop dragging out their game.
Wishes don't come true in my world. They never will. I live in a world of Ghouls, Vampires, and Shape-shifters. Do you really believe the reality of this world is all fucking ice cream and uniforms? I never said my life was easy. Sorry to fucking disappoint you. You want a love story, right? Well, stick around.
If you think you can handle it.