Salvation | By : miriellar Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 3883 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer- I don’t own LotR. I don’t really own anything. If you recognise it- I don’t own it
The quiet was really starting to annoy her. She could hear the clock downstairs ticking and if she listened hard enough she could hear the quiet breathing of her parents and her siblings as they slept down the hall.
Shaking her head she carefully walked over to her desk. Opening the desk would be easy, but finding the key was another matter altogether. Finally after nearly half an hour of searching through various boxes and draws she found it lodged in between two of her favourite sets of books- The Vampire Chronicles and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Although if she had to pick her favourite, the Lord of the Rings would win hands down every time. Even she had to admit- she was slightly obsessed with the Lord of the Rings. Pictures and posters had been carefully put into binders and her precious books and dvd’s had pride of place on her shelf. The Elves were her favourite. They were beautiful, graceful, peace loving but if necessary they were magnificent warriors.
The lock clicked as she opened the drawer. She closed her eyes as she opened it. It was just a drawer-right? Yes, on one hand it was drawer, but on the other hand it was the keeper of her darkest secret. With shaking hands she took the box and ran to her bShe She just sat there looking at it.
Hurt, Pain and Sadness flashed through her. Finally with determination she pulled up the left sleeve of her jumper. From her wrist to her elbow multiple scars could be seen. Some could be seen clearly and were only a few hours or days old. But some were white and could only be seen if they were looked at closely. The box that she both loved and hated contained various razor blades and knives that she used day after day without fail.
Picking up a randomly selected razor she brought it to her wrist. There was pain, but only for a few seconds. She cut and cut, deeper and deeper until there was no untouched skin visible. Unable to stop herself she lifted up her other sleeve and proceeded to do the same to her right arm. It was a little more difficult but she soon got the hang of it. She began to feel nauseous and sweat began to bead on her forehead. She looked down in wonder, the blood was running down her arms in small rivers.
~~~~~~~~
I can remember the first time that I did this. It was my 13th birthday- and he’d forgotten. Lucky for me, mum had taken me out the day before. We went shopping and we did everything that a mother and daughter were supposed to do, laughed at ridiculous fashions, gotten manicures and boy did we spend. T god god for credit cards.
Dad had come in from work shouting about how he’d had a stressful day. I could feel my blood boil at that. My day hadn’t exactly been fabulous either. I’d been late for school, forgotten all my homework and my gym kit and to top it off I’d been given two hours of detention to do the following evening.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Quickly I threw my bag into the wardrobe and pulled on a pair of jeans, just as I was pulling on a T-shirt my door opened and my dad’s head popped through, ‘ you dressed?’. He asked. ‘yeah dad- what’s up?’. He didn’t answer me, instead he came into the room shutting the door behind him. He looked at me with a glint in his eyes. There was something different about him. Before I could do anything he’s strode across the room and pinned me to the wall. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he held my face to his.
‘Listen to me you good for nothing little bitch. I had a little talk with your mother this morning and it seems that you two have been, shall we say…taking me for a ride. Spending my money, eating my food and what do I get? Nothing. Why can’t you be like your brother and sister hmm? They’re good kids. I’m ashamed to call you my daughter!’
He sharply jabbed me in the stomach, it hurt and I couldn’t breathe for a minute. He used this opportunity to his advantage and backhanded me sending me to the ground. He took of his belt and he brought it down on my back- this went on for about 20 minutes. By that time my shirt was in shreds and my back felt like it was on fire.
‘Don’t tell your brother or sister- if you do next time I’ll make it worse. And I wouldn’t bother telling your whore of a mother either- she’s already been dealt with’.
And with that, he left the room. That happened at least once a week for two years, until I took control.
I was in the shower trying to get all of the blood out of my hair when it occurred to me. I took the razor from the shelf and looked at it. Without really thinking about it I brought it across my forearm. The pain was delicious. I could no longer feel the stinging of my scalp and my back. Watching the blood run down my arm and down the plug hole was like watching all the hurt that I had felt and the feeling of betrayal and sadness wash away. And I was hooked. It became a part of my everyday routine. Sure it hurt, but for those few minutes I was numb and I didn’t have to think about anything.
Slowly the beating got worse and it soon became almost unbearable. The agony and fear I have lived with, if only I could stop it all. Suicide had become an option.
~~~~~~~~
Black spots were beginning to appear in front of my eyes, I felt exhausted. ‘I’ll close my eyes that’ll make me feel better’. As I was thinking, a bright light appeared at the foot of my bed and out of stepped a woman. ‘I’m dying, I’ve heard of this happening to people before they die. But where’s the tunnel? Oh no, I haven’t fed the cat or taken my library books back’, a torrent of ridiculous thoughts ran through my head.
My eyes were heavy and I was longing to close them. They were beginning to itch with effort of keeping them opI coI could feel the blood pouring down the arms and pooling on the lavender bed spread. At least I won’t have to wash them. The forgotten razor lay innocently on the pillow next to me.
She was tall and graceful, she walked with a certain poise and reagality. Her long, golden hair shone as did her white beaded dress. But her eyes- they looked as if they held the stars and they were as blue as the ocean. " Child, you soul aches. Rest now and do not worry for we shall meet on the other side". Her was melodious and it lulled me to sleep. I closed my eyes for the last time, the last thing that I saw was the moon outside my window.
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