Walking alone, by herself, a female clad in black clothes, from head to toe. Rain poured heavily and the sky cried with her. No one watched as she trailed sorrowfully down the lone road. No one listened as she shakenly repeated names spat at her from over the years. No one watched as she slowly continued to deconstruct herself.
Her clothes, now soaking wet, weighed heavily to her pale skin. Her hair became matted and hanged down in front of her absent gaze, tears trailing along with the rain. The female’s brown eyes were dulled, her face exhausted. Her mind raced with thoughts, memories, some memoriam for her lost innocence.
She walked slowly, the rain subsiding in the slightest. Her head remained lowered. As she walked, familiar scenery became more recognizable. She stopped herself from stepping forward again, stopping, standing like a soldier at attention. She turned to her right and saw a home, the siding painted a fading yellow. A front porch with carpet colored a dark blue, a wooden swing bolted into the ceiling of the patio.
Trees lined a white fence walkway, leading down to the driveway where two vehicles were parked in front of two garage doors. The front yard had grass as green as one can imagine, trees tall enough for children to climb, and a long driveway that lead back around the house. The house seemed to have two floors, and yet she knew, there was much more to it then there seemed to be. She’d been here before.
The rain had now completely subsided, the sun shining brightly and the sky a bright blue. She raised her head and slowly examined where she was. Of course, in curiosity, she walked through the yard and cut toward the entrance of the walkway, slowly reaching out and touching the wooden bar painted white. Sluggishly, she trapesed up the concrete walkway and up the steps to the front door, stopping.
Hesitantly, she pulled the glass door open and then twisted the brass knob of the wooden door, pushing it open softly. Instantly, she felt the dark atmosphere and wanted to run, she knew she didn’t belong. Instead, she pushed herself to step inside the unforgiving home, closing the door behind her. A setting melted from the blackness that enveloped the room, two recliners, a couch, a small table supporting a lamp.
To her right was a television on a stand, to her left was a wall. In front of her was the familiar home in which she hated as a whole. Slowly, she stepped foot after foot, leading her to a kitchen table in the shape of an oval. She pulled one of the wooden chairs out and sat in silence, her hands resting on the table and remaining clasped together. She inhaled, and let out a long sigh. Back in the prison again, trying to find the pieces to put back together, but finding only shattered hopes and broken dreams.
Buried memories now long forgotten, only leaving the inevitable horrors. The unrelenting, merciless memories of the time spent here haunted her greatly, and tore her apart fiber by fiber from her fragile being. The moment she had stepped foot in this home had set everything in motion. She heard the voices telling her that she’ll never be loved, she’ll never go home, she had been abandoned by a mother whom loved her so much more than she knew, breaking everything she was.
Her joy was long gone as the images flashed through like a flip book, replaying the tale of something much bigger now than it was then. The care she provided for a younger brother, the vow she was committed, “I will care for him so that he doesn’t ever have to feel alone…so that he won’t ever end up like me.” And thus, she became selfless to a point to which she had left herself behind.
Every day, living with insults thrown, words that cut deeply, and the lingering thought that she didn’t belong here. Yet, it wasn’t just a thought. It was true. She hid from the home in the woods back far behind the house, escaping if only for a short while. Scared to return, scared to do anything wrong.
She’d hide away from them because she knew she wasn’t going to fit in, she’d be picked at till she couldn’t handle it anymore. She become sly, sneaking food at night, never complaining, she wanted nothing in return for any deeds she had completed. She only wanted the love she needed from a parent, her real parent.
Her spirit was then broken and never repaired, her mind remained shattered and her being as a whole could be that of a monster…That is what she named herself. A monster, a stranger, someone who never will, can, or should belong. It was all she knew. For the longest time, she dwelled in those thoughts, reminding herself that she was never good enough and she will never be the perfect child.
The female now had tears still streaming down her cheeks, her gaze becoming blurry as she trembled. She shouted at the top of her lungs, darting up and tipping the chair, slamming her hands down on top of the table, “I’m not normal! I’m just a monster to them-to everyone!” She panted, lowering her head and falling to her knees, holding her head in her hands and sobbing. This was her life, this will always be her life.
The scene began to fade and the space around her became somewhat of a black void, consuming every bit of light she could muster, leaving her exhausted once more, and it was then that she felt herself falling, her body floating free as she fell further and further.
She closed her eyes and held her breath as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Suddenly, the loud splash of water was all she heard as she sank deep into a blue sea, opening her eyes and looking up at the sky that grew darker and darker as she was pulled deeper down. Bubbles of air escaped her lungs as she exhaled into the water, unable to breathe again.
She had no energy to swim up as her body was trying to tell her to do, but she only grew weaker as she sank. The life in her eyes began to fade, her body beginning to give in to the grasp of death. She felt the sand at the bottom of the sea floor, soft and welcoming as she slipped into a state of unconsciousness. Her mind raced, memories flashing in her mind as she no longer breathed.
She thought it was over, and yet, awoke on a cold cement floor, surrounded by concrete walls and a lone lightbulb illuminating the area around her. She recognized this room, it was in the basement of the home she became lost in. She began to shift when she realized, her foot was chained to the pole in the middle of the small room. She glanced around and saw nothing to break her free, and so she sat, pondering a solution to this dilemma. She heard footsteps from above, and panic came over her senses.
She heard the thump of feet upon the carpet coated concrete stairs, how much closer they grew. She started to call out to them, but found her voice was missing. She placed a hand on her throat and her eyes watered, she didn’t care that the chains rattled as she pulled her knees to her chest and cried onto her arms. She didn’t care that the mystery person would hear.
The footsteps stopped in front of her, she didn’t look up. A man had ventured down into the house, unafraid of the horrors he may find. The man was about as tall as the brown haired female, his hair was black and his skin fair. He wore a shirt with jeans and sneakers, with him he had a key. He knelt and reached toward the crying girl, cautious of her reaction. Her shoulders only shook as she cried.
He gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to glance up at him with eyes full of tears. His small smile faded, she only became silent. They stared at each other for a moment before he allowed his hand to fall from her shoulder. His gaze fell to her battered figure, her shirt was dirty and her jeans torn.
He noticed the chain that lead to her ankle, the rusty lock that locked it all together. He looked at the nearly pristine key in his hand and wondered. He moved past her and lifted the heavy lock, inserting the key into the keyhole, a perfect fit. He unlocked it and unchained her from the pole, standing up straight and helping her up in the process.
She stumbled into his arms, him holding his balance. He wrapped an arm around the small of her back, helping her up the stairs of the basement. He sat her at the familiar dining room table in the familiar home. She refused to let him go, clinging to him like a scared child.
Once again, the atmosphere faded and left her in the dark, consuming every bit of her until she was nothing. She couldn’t take it anymore, she wanted out. It was then that a light cast down upon a pillar, a loaded pistol upon its white stone surface. She walked toward it cautiously, weary of anything to happen.
She grasped the cold metal of the pistol and cocked it slowly, her mind telling her to stop but her heart telling her to continue. She put the gun to her temple and whispered softly, uttering words of her departure from this life.
“I’ve been this way for a really long time, and I now lay my soul to rest eternally, finally to find peace, finally to let go.”
She pulled the trigger, a flash of white consuming the scene. Now, in a room lit by blue lights, a fan humming in the background, a bed in the far right corner of the room had in it a brown haired female. Her breathing soft and slow becoming more faint, her pulse slowly weakening. Her hand lain beside her, a bottle of pills with pills spilled from it on her bed and some on her floor.
Her breathing was slow, becoming slower. Her pulse no longer strong became faint, her body breaking, setting her tormented soul free. No more crying, no more numbness, no more pain. Nothing was left to say, nothing will be said. Her body was left to be found by a mother worried sick. Her eyes were closed, tears remained dried on her cheeks, her last words written on a note left beside her bed on a small table. She caved in to the monster she was, she believed there was no other way. She wasn’t a monster, however. She was forced to be the monster.
Author Notes: Based on real events of a real person, aside from the suicide. Tell me what you think, I'd love to hear feedback.