|Do you have a problem? I'm trying to die here
Author: Alley-Katt PM
My whole body feels numb, almost as if I'm floating, like an out of body experience, and I question, am I already dead? The train is still a few dozen yards away, and is getting closer with every second. I close my eyes, ready to embrace the escape from this torture, and relish in the beauty and silence of death. I take a deep breath and step forward, ready to leave this nightmare.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 2 - Words: 6,905 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 11-19-12 - Published: 11-18-12 - id: 3075310
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Okay... I really hope you'll like this guys, it's just an idea that's been sitting in my head for aaages now, and I've finally gotten round to writing it.
Yes this will have some slash in it, so do not read if you are not into that sort of thing, you have been warned, so please, no hate reviews.
Five years ago...
I arrive home from school just as I normally do, pocket full of cash from selling playboy magazines and a smile on my face. I had managed to sell nearly thirty today, and I've made almost thirty quid from it, maybe I'll be able to have dinner for the next few days after all, that if my Dad doesn't take it off me first. But something is... different. I usually come home to see that my parents are arguing, but this doesn't usually bother me as I'm used to it, hell, they argue every day, all day. But this time, I can smell an unfamiliar stench in the air. It makes my stomach churn and I wrinkle my nose up at it. It smells sweet, and musky, like what a drunk person smells like after too much beer. Maybe Dad is drunk? No... I doubt it, he never gets drunk, and thinks that the stuff is rotten. But the smell confirms it easily, he's been drinking, and I don't hear him arguing with my bitch of a Mum either. Maybe they have split up again. Well, it wouldn't be anything new, they always break up for some reason or another, but she always comes back.
I open the door casually as I always do and the overpowering stench of the sweet and musky stuff hits me like a slap in the face and I cover my nose out of disgust I walk into our small, grimy 'living room' and see my Dad sat on our coffee stained sofa glaring at me. His eyes are puffy and red, like he's been crying, and he has a glass bottle in his hand. I stop in my tracks as he suddenly jumps up and snarls viciously at me. What the heck is wrong with him? The smell is stronger now, and is making me gip, it's disgusting Dad looks a complete mess, he had a rip in his filthy shirt and scratches on his face, leading down to his shoulder. I guess him and Mum must have had another fight then.
"You fucking little piece of shit! It's all your fucking fault!" He screams, and lurches across the room toward me. I watch him as he grows closer, terrified, unable to move. He grabs me by my shirt violently,and smashes me into the cold wall behind me as I let out a yelp of pain. His nose is nearly touching mine as he breaths heavily, the heavy stench of alcohol and cigarettes emanating from his disgusting breath. His nostrils flare as he glares at me, and I can nearly count every hair on his face we are that close. I squirm, trying to get away, scared as to what he might do to me what if he hurts me? Punches me? What if he kills me? He sure looks like he's ready to.
"I'll show you what it's fucking like to be in pain you little bastard," He grunts, bitter anger in his tone. He smashes the bottle in his hand against the table next to us and I flinch as the small pieces of glass fly scatter across the room. He brings the bottle up to my right shoulder, and presses the shard jagged edges lightly against it. My eyes widen in horror, and I see an evil smile playing on his lips. Please don't hurt me... That's all I can think as I stare into his wild eyes, and he pushes the bottle harder against my shoulder and twists it, digging it deep into my skin. A scream escapes my lips as the pain shoots through me and he pushes it in even harder, making me scream even more. I push my hands out in front of me, trying to knock him away, but he only tightens his grasp on me, and pushes the sharp edges further into my shoulder, twisting it this way and that, making me howl in pain.
"Shut the fuck up!" Saliva shoots out of his mouth, landing all over my face, but I couldn't care less, I had to get away from him. This man is crazy, I mean, what the heck did I do to deserve this? He suddenly pulls the jagged edges of the bottle out of my raw skin and drops me to the floor. I crumple up, and pull my knees to my chest as I feel tears pouring down my cheeks and I realize I'm crying. He moves away from me, and spits in disgust.
"Little shit, serves you right," He speaks with a bitter tone, full of disgust and hatred as he leaves the room and I hear the front door slam. I simply lay there, clutching my bleeding shoulder and sob for what seems like hours on end.
A/N: Okay, thank you for reading! there will be a another chapter up ASAP, but please tell me what you think because I really don't know if I should carry this on.
BTW, if you are into horror, and blood and gutsy kinda storys, have a look at 'To Kill A Corpse' which I am working on at the moment for NaNo Wrimo young writers program.
Sooo, yeah, thanks for reqading and leave a review to tell me what you think! Bye guys xx