Young Writers Society

My mind was in chaos. No memories were left for me to sift through. I hugged my body again, swamped with my feelings. I felt a tear run down my cheek, but I despised it. Fear of the unknown compelled the tears to continue. I felt my heart wretch with every breath and wondered if I was dreaming. I tried so hard to remember what had happened the day before, but I was lost. Every emotion ran through my head without consent. With so much in shadow, with so much uncertainty, I saw no solution, no problem, even. How was one supposed to face a nightmare with no beginning? Was there to be an end?

A footstep beside me made me glance up to see the woman standing over me. Vaguely I realized she had picked me up and taken me to the blood-like light. The red-washed sheets felt cool against my bare skin, but I felt the heat rise to my face and goose bumps form on my legs as I felt their cold eyes on me. One of the others slipped another sheet over my body with practiced ease, his eyes burying in through my chest. The woman picked a silver utensil off a tray, flicking the blade’s cover off and passing it to the man inspecting my chest and neck. The red light glinted of the blade in colourful patterns, giving the appearances that it was already dripping with my blood. It came closer to my chest. My heart squirmed inside me and my lungs were screaming silently. My legs spasmed and my stomach went weak.

I prayed desperately for mercy, for truth, for forgiveness. My life streaked before me, showing its emptiness, selfishness, its ugliness. ‘No!’ I thought. ‘I’m just a girl, not a god!’

The knife touched my skin. I didn’t flinch. I let it slide in a circle around my chest, imagining it in my mind. I had expected pain, but instead I felt a dullness softly exude from my chest. That was when I tasted the saltiness of blood in my mouth and knew it dribbled from my lips.

The three people scrutinized me without shame. The leader shook his head emotionally, withdrawing the knife from my body. I saw dark red droplets splash onto my bare skin as he held it up to inspect his work.

His mouth curved in a cynical smile, casting new-found fear into me, beyond what I thought I could cope with. Even in such fanatical circumstances, my brain paused to admire the constancy of the steady ‘thump, thump’ of my heart, and the natural, unstoppable rhythm of my trembling fingers. I closed my eyes as a fresh wave of nausea buried me in my misery.

The woman touched my cheek, caressing my smooth skin with what almost seemed like affection. Mentally, I cursed her. I hurled her to the depths of hell, slammed her into every wall my mind could conjure, drowned her with a millstone around her neck. My lungs begged me to stop swearing hate at the woman leaning so close to me, yet unreachable. My lips grimaced unevenly, and I could feel my eyes cloud with a milky substance. In one swift decision, my misery and pain had been converted into black hate. The cold-eyed woman lurched backwards as I grabbed for her arm, but came back at me with quick vengeance. My arms became immobile, strapped to the side of the table with thin, cold chains. The blood in my hands slowed, and I vaguely recognized a feeling of pins and needles.

As I lay silent on the table, the colour of the ceiling changed from a dark hue of red to a eerie progression of brighter colours - pink, light blue, green, stopping on orange. The room swirled around me as I watched and seemed to melt away. Suddenly I was in pitch dark again. I shut my eyes in mental exhaustion, and willed myself to be back in my real life again. I opened my eyes, expecting a new nightmare.