A/N - Yes this is meant to be VERY DARK and DISTURBING. It was plot bunny that got away from me while I was having a very bad manic-depressive episode, however it helped me through it by giving me an outlet.
---------------------------------
Haven of her Final Peace
---------------------------------
A teen slammed her door, uncaring of the way her mother yelled at her. In fact, it had been years since Stef had cared. Not since – No! She shook her head, wildly curly hair flying in every direction. Not today, and after today, not ever. That made her smile hysterically, as she nodded her head again and again, thinking in an ever repeating mantra ‘Not ever again, not ever again!’
She plopped down in her favorite chair. It was nearly ten years old and quite a bit too small for her, but with the way she sat, her thin and small frame curled in a fetal position, Stef could just fit. The soft and faded grey cushions were covered in chaotic scribbles, random words and drawing. Though it had changed in the past ten years, the comfort and peace it gave her then was still as strong now. Warily she closed her eyes and drifted, blocking out the sounds of sex that had served as her lullaby since-
NO! Stef shot straight up, falling out of the chair, tears came to her eyes. No matter how hard she fought though, the images still rose to the forefront of her mind: running upstairs to her new baby brothers room, the site of the once pale blue walls covered in crimson blood, her father – no longer the carefree and happy, loving, father that she had known all her life – standing in a corner, the blood covered knife in one hand and her baby brother’s head in the other. Stef could feel a scream welling up in her, but like always when she opened her mouth to let it out, all that came out was a hiss of air. One trembling hand traced the pale mass of scar on her throat where her father had ripped it clean open, severing her vocal cords. Crystal hued tears fell in rivulets down her pale cheeks to fall, staining the chair a darker grey where they landed. Her other hand clawed at the material of her chair, the sharp nails finding purchase as they had times before, and causing small rips to form.
When the attack passed she hauled herself back into the chair, her entire frame shaking. Dimly she heard a gunshot and screams from somewhere down the street, closely followed by sirens. Slowly she calmed, breathe evening out and pulse slowing down enough that her head stopped spinning, she tried to focus on something, anything, to bring her back to the present. One of her hands dug in her pocket, wrapping around the tiny vial that had cost her weeks of cautiously stealing from her mother’s hiding spot, praying to gods that she didn’t believe in, that she wouldn’t get caught and beaten again.
Pulling it out a tiny smile ghosted on the edges over her mouth. It really was tiny, barely three ounces, filled to the brim with a clear liquid. Stef had stumbled upon what it was months ago looking up poisonous plants for a school project, and the idea that had been just a passing thought at the time had slowly grown. Then it seemed to become a living entity in her mind, whispering to her, sweet promises that tempted her, breaking down her resolve little by little. Now, wrapped in the comfort of her childhood seat, made for her by her father before that horrible day, she closed her eyes, opened her vial, and drank the Belladonna extract down.
As she felt her mind begin to float and her heart slow down she could swear that she saw a light before her, beckoning to her and nearly pulsing with warmth and welcome. In its depth she could have sworn that she saw her father smiling, her little brother in his arms waving at her to join them. When the last breath left her body, Stef smiled, feeling truly at peace and happy for the first time in over ten years.
Gender:
Points: 1008
Reviews: 5