The Time Passes

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Summary

"Ma'am what year is it?" "It is 1789, Miss are you alright." To be honest Robin didn't have any idea where or should I say when she was. The small red head grew up in a house with an abusive father and the moment she finally decides to end it all she gets thrown back in time. Only the gods know why she goes back in time but soon very soon she will find out for herself. Could it be that her soul is always looking for a better parent figure? Or possibly she longed for someone to grow old with. Perhaps the butterfly affect will change the future while she is back in time or perhaps she is supposed to go back in time and help the events happen that we read about in our history books.

Genre:
Scifi / Horror
Author:
And_Peggy_schuyler_
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
3
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
16+

Just the beginning yet the end

(TRIGGER WARNING! SUICIDE! DEATH! ABUSE!)

Tears flowed down the young girls face. The salty liquid ran down her cheek like a never ending river. Her sobs seemed to make the Earth stop spinning and the bring night stars look down at her in sadness as if already they already know what she is planning to do. The fear she felt was deep in her heart making the small hair along her arm stick up and her legs softly shake as if the wind shook her soul. No matter how many monsters roamed the darkness of the night the only fear she held was sent at the monster who lived in that damn house that held so many memories in its unforgotten walls. The blue and purple bruises that littered her skin only served as a reminder for how many times his balled up fist slammed against her face or the scars that ran down her back from the leather belt with metal points along the fabric.

Her father wasn’t always the monster that lurked the wooden walls of the halls. The mall red head knows the day it started was the day of her mother’s funeral. That was the first time his hand ever left a small stinging sensation against her cheek where a red hand print laid. But as much as the young red head wanted that to be the start it wasn’t the mental abuse started the moment she was born when her father found out she was a girl and not a boy like her hoped.

All the red headed seven year old wanted was someone to help her but she had no friends or family that cared about her, she had no way to escape when her father went on drunken rampages in the house or when he would sneak into her room at night and force her legs open. That is when she began to climb this tree every night. Just like the nervous night she skillfully began to scale the side of the tree with her feet placed in intricate patterns up the rough bark of the tree. She climb up only stopping at her ‘hide away’ branch as she called it because you couldn’t see her from the house to the curtain of leaves that blocked her from the eyes of her probably searching father. As soon as she knelled on the branch her bright blue eyes drifted to the darkened sky with her hands placed on her knees. The weight in her pocket became heavier with every breath she took. Her blue eyes were filled with sadness while her face held no emotions making the girl look void of any life that she struggled to hold onto.

Her eyes stayed glued onto the brightest star i the sky as she began the nightly chant she usually did every night. “Oh please, if anyone can hear me. Take me away from here.” she begged softly her eyes shut tightly and her bowed as if praying to a god that she thought wasn’t listening. just as regular no one heard her pleads. She promised herself this was the last time. The last time she climb this tree or perhaps the last time her climb down as well. No matter how unbearably heavily her eye lids became she waited patiently until the top of the sun kissed the top of the mountains in the distance. With the small sun rays grazing her skin her small freckled covered hand yanked out the knife that had seemed to be a hundred pounds in her denim jeans she wore to hide the cuts that seemed to flow down the once smooth skin of her legs.

“I am not sorry.” Her cracked voice from not drinking enough liquids whispered as if she was talking to the stars. Her eyes stared up at the stars as if she quietly thanked them for listening when no one else would. Though those words were her last as she slowly dragged the cold sharpness of the knife dug into the skin of her neck. She slid the blade across her windpipe leaving only the strong smell of iron and the fresh blood that flowed from the deep cut. Her eyes came to a finale close as her eye lashes pressed against the skin of her tear drenched cheek, like a stage curtain coming to close after the last show.

That night the sky cried in sorrow flooding the rivers in the rain almost mimicking the tears that once flowed across her cheek. Though she had gone through so much for just a seven year old the gods agreed to give the girl a gift. And as the gods blessed her dead body a light began to engulf the body as soon as her soul slowly lifted out of her body. The golden light seemed to blanket her as time reversed.

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