Melanie Waters shivered, she pulled the dark trench coat around her, but it wasn't the cold that was making her shiver, it was the shadows.
They haunted her, tugged at her clothes, whispered in her ear, always pulling her attention.
They terrified her, she had felt the shadows since she was a little girl, it hadn't taken her long to realise that not everybody had shadows, they had the usual shadow of course, the image of yourself, but they didn't have the other shadows that teased you, pulling your pigtails and yanking on your dress.
No-one knew what to do with her, for she didn't waver on her belief in the shadows until she was nine, when she realised that they only got her in trouble, so instead she pretended they weren't there, she ignored them and tried to live like they weren't there... But that just made it worse, by trying to ignore them she was constantly reminded of their presence, they became violent, more volatile, and then they started to speak to her.
She was afraid of the voices worst of all, they were very persuasive and cunning, they told her the things she didn't want to know, they reminded her of things she did that she wanted to forget, and they made her want to do thingd that she shouldn't.
They whispered low in her ear, telling her about the girls that made fun of her for being a phsycopath, and how she should want to, "Rip their throats out, make them beg, make them plead, squeeze the life from their souls," this terrified her, but what scared her more, was that for one brief moment, she wanted to do it so badly that her fingers had inched towards the cook's knife in the home economics drawer.
When she turned 15 she couldn't ignore them any more, they hurt her, and punished her, lacerating her skin, and then they whispered to her, feeding her their words and murderous intentions, to rip, to tear, to maim and torture.
Melanie was completely alone, she couldn't tell anyone and she couldn't have friends lest the shadows make her do to something that she would regret, she became an outcast, a reject of her own accord.
Melanie succeded in being invisible for a long time, until she fell in love. He was nothing special, but he was a good soul who made her laugh and forget the shadows, and murder and the different poisons she could slip into someones tea to give them a slow and agonising death, she felt safe.
The shadows didn't like this, not one bit did they like having their captives attention anywhere but where they were directing her, so they gave her a little push while she was sleeping, for controlling a body in such a vulnerable state was nothing for demons from hell.
She awoke on a roof-top with blood on her hands, and her love lying bleeding beside her, the knife was sitting close by in the pool of crimson, the shadows snickered in her ear, "Isn't it wonderful? Look at it, it's such a lovely colour red," and they cackled some more, Melanie weeped and sobbed begging and pleading and cursing her own name, she had never wanted to live like this, she had never wanted to live at all. It was time to stop, she wouldn't, she couldn't hurt anyone else.
She stepped cautiously to the roof's edge, she peered over the side, it wasn't very high, but it was high enough for the deed, Melanie blinked away her tears, she wasn't sad for herself or for anyone else for she would be leaving no one behind, she was sad because if she had led a different life, without the shadows, it would have been different, she would, or could have been happy.
And she jumped.
I don't know what this is... I really don't. I don't like it much either, I had a rather different thing planned in my head, but it turned out like this.... Its a little morbid and dark but it could be worse...
They haunted her, tugged at her clothes, whispered in her ear, always pulling her attention.
They terrified her, she had felt the shadows since she was a little girl, it hadn't taken her long to realise that not everybody had shadows, they had the usual shadow of course, the image of yourself, but they didn't have the other shadows that teased you, pulling your pigtails and yanking on your dress.
No-one knew what to do with her, for she didn't waver on her belief in the shadows until she was nine, when she realised that they only got her in trouble, so instead she pretended they weren't there, she ignored them and tried to live like they weren't there... But that just made it worse, by trying to ignore them she was constantly reminded of their presence, they became violent, more volatile, and then they started to speak to her.
She was afraid of the voices worst of all, they were very persuasive and cunning, they told her the things she didn't want to know, they reminded her of things she did that she wanted to forget, and they made her want to do thingd that she shouldn't.
They whispered low in her ear, telling her about the girls that made fun of her for being a phsycopath, and how she should want to, "Rip their throats out, make them beg, make them plead, squeeze the life from their souls," this terrified her, but what scared her more, was that for one brief moment, she wanted to do it so badly that her fingers had inched towards the cook's knife in the home economics drawer.
When she turned 15 she couldn't ignore them any more, they hurt her, and punished her, lacerating her skin, and then they whispered to her, feeding her their words and murderous intentions, to rip, to tear, to maim and torture.
Melanie was completely alone, she couldn't tell anyone and she couldn't have friends lest the shadows make her do to something that she would regret, she became an outcast, a reject of her own accord.
Melanie succeded in being invisible for a long time, until she fell in love. He was nothing special, but he was a good soul who made her laugh and forget the shadows, and murder and the different poisons she could slip into someones tea to give them a slow and agonising death, she felt safe.
The shadows didn't like this, not one bit did they like having their captives attention anywhere but where they were directing her, so they gave her a little push while she was sleeping, for controlling a body in such a vulnerable state was nothing for demons from hell.
She awoke on a roof-top with blood on her hands, and her love lying bleeding beside her, the knife was sitting close by in the pool of crimson, the shadows snickered in her ear, "Isn't it wonderful? Look at it, it's such a lovely colour red," and they cackled some more, Melanie weeped and sobbed begging and pleading and cursing her own name, she had never wanted to live like this, she had never wanted to live at all. It was time to stop, she wouldn't, she couldn't hurt anyone else.
She stepped cautiously to the roof's edge, she peered over the side, it wasn't very high, but it was high enough for the deed, Melanie blinked away her tears, she wasn't sad for herself or for anyone else for she would be leaving no one behind, she was sad because if she had led a different life, without the shadows, it would have been different, she would, or could have been happy.
And she jumped.
I don't know what this is... I really don't. I don't like it much either, I had a rather different thing planned in my head, but it turned out like this.... Its a little morbid and dark but it could be worse...
No comments:
Post a Comment