The Act
And, just like that, he was gone from this earth. Taken away by my hands, removed as quickly as I had been born, destroyed as quickly as I had been made. The water trickled down my arm like blood from a freshly cut wound, so thick and sloppy, so... human.
But in those moments, I was not human. At least I did not feel it. Without my dignity, without my self-respect, I felt empty, hollow inside, rotten from the inside out. My hair felt greasy and sticky with his sweat, my neck rotten and swollen from his bites, my wrists bloody and sore from the ropes. I felt so helpless, so, so, dead, like there was nothing left, no reason for survival. I tried to wash away his marks, remove the imprint he left on me, take away the last two hours. But I couldn't... I could wash away the blood, remove the bed sheets, have a thousand showers, but what he did, what he forced me into, that wouldn't leave me. I have nothing left, no one left, no reason to jump the hurdles and finish life. He killed my mother, he killed my children, he kidnapped my sister ...
a knife in the neck was the least he deserved...
Lara awoke in the bathtub, sweat drenching her forehead. The clock in the front room ticked loudly, making her head pound with each unending tick. She could see black spots flash in front of her eyes, see the blood trickle from the skin she had pulled off her thumb. she relished in the momentary 'silence' even with the clock ticking in the background, that encircled the small bathroom and made her feel as though she was a child once again. All protected and cosy, she snuggled further into the small towel. But her happiness was short-lived, her memories of cuddling with her mum and eating cold soup next to a campfire, all short-lived, because she just had to see her bloody blood-soaked clothes pooled on the floor next to the bath, she just, she had to, didn't she, she had to fucking ruin everything... didn't she? She edged her way through the hallway, following the trail of bloody footprints along her favourite carpet; that will be a pain to remove! Coming to her room, she held back the vomit that had forced its way up her throat at the sight in front of her. There was just so much blood, so much blood. Everywhere, on the floor, the bed, the walls, her curtains- that was when the tears fell, with everything that had happened, the death of her mum just seemed to hit her in the face ten times harder.
"She gave me those curtains, you bastard," She screamed, somehow letting all her anger out in one loud burst of screams and violent flailing of her arms against the walls, "She gave me them when I moved out and you ruined them you fucker!" With one swift movement, she yanked his watch from his cold dead wrist before smashing a window and flinging the retched piece of jewellery, that probably amounted to ten times more than he had ever paid for child support, out the window. It landed with a clang on top of the neighbours fence, maybe the old hag will like babies now, maybe she can buy a takeaway, or have some fun?
"He deserved that, the fucker!" she muttered quietly as she walked away from her room and went to wake up her babies. The sweet music of the cradles sounded like the music she had been played as a child, it soothed her, calmed her. She picked up one of their books on the way to the room, gently tracing the intricate detailing on the spine. 'Fairytales', what a stupid thing to call something? But her babies loved them and she would read them a thousand times to see her babies smile, with their gap teeth. She couldn't wait to hear their giggles, see their bright eyes, full of curiosity, get them dressed in their favourite outfits and, oh, she hadn't thought what she'd do with them today: maybe a toddler group; the cinema? No, the beach, yeah! She decided finally on a nice chocolate ic...
"No!" she wailed, heart almost falling through her chest. The bile she had tried so hard to swallow lurched forward in a horrible mix of her lunch and her sleeping pills. The floor splattered with nothing but baby toys, bile and her babies blood. She ran forward, tears violently flailing from her eyes, so much she could barely see. Her hands gently stroked their faces, willing them to wake up. But the blood was too much, the smell was too much, the sight was too much, that she could no longer take it.
"Turn it off, turn it all off, take it away, I don't want to feel anymore! It's too much, take it all away!" And she felt it, the switch. Well, not a real switch, but an inner one. Her mum had always talked about a switch like you could turn off your emotions with something as simple as a switch. Standing from her crouched position, she walked to her room. The dark night swamped her room as she swung open her closet doors. she pulled on a new dress before sliding her gun into her waist holder and putting on her jacket.
"Let's get wasted..." She whispered as she walked out of the house. She reached her car and swung into the seats. Fiddling with a couple of switches she found the button. Slowly, she reversed out of the driveway and found herself a nice spot outside of the blast radius.
"Fuck you, Link..." She whispered as she pressed the button and watched as her family home, her children, her mother and her ex-husbands best friend went up in flames, "Better watch out Link, I may feel no emotion but revenge is a state of mind, I'm coming for you, you son of a bitch..."
