Young Writers Society

I was lying in the dark alone; the silence my only comfort. I was a prisoner in my mind constantly being reminded of the mess I have caused. My watch ticked. Tick-tick-tick-tick, over and over every second lasting an eternity, every second bringing me closer to what was to become. In the shadows I can see the faint outline of my knees pushed up against my chest. The scars shining, the damage has been done. The fault was mine.

Memory; I laughed. I could laugh then, so euphoric and free. Father liked me then; I was his favourite. He’d call me over and he’d tell me about his job, and what I would do when I grow up. I was going to be as good as him. As far as he was concerned the future held nothing for my sister; she was a nomad in the strange world I grew up in, dominated by masculine populace. She was the outcast and I was the god, the one everyone valued. But it was all lies. They were wrong. They couldn’t have been so wrong.

It changed too fast. The pace was too quick for me to handle. I grew older, and father became more adamant that I work for him. I wanted to live my own dreams though. I said no. I said no and he slated me, I was no longer part of his family he said. I had to get away. There was no place for me here. My life was slowly shrinking, shrinking into a tiny cuboid with no space, I could barely breathe. I had no idea where I would go, just away, away from everyone who didn’t understand.

I couldn’t get out, there was nowhere to go. No place of solace. I had no option, there were no choices. I didn’t mean to do it. He was just there. Wrong place, wrong time. My father shouldn’t of taunted me. One minute the knife was on the kitchen work surface, the next it was in my hand. Blood. Blood was everywhere. I could taste it in the air. The knife stuck out vertically from his chest. My hands were stained, even today I still see the blood on my hands. They all came then, in their black coats. Everyone stared at me as they took me away. They jeered at me and told their friends they knew I was wrong in the head. I’m not crazy, I’m fine. They don’t understand what happened, how could they? They weren’t there, they just assumed they knew. But they didn’t, they knew nothing. They couldn’t understand that I was making things better. No one understood, no one could ever understand.

So here I am lying in the dark alone. The prison cell is taking over my life. Soon it will all be over. All that will be left of me is my memories.