Poison Letters

Chapter 10

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Dear you,

I miss Doll.

Bet you forgot about that bítch, huh?

Yeah well, I did too.

I miss her. I really do.

I think I'll see her soon. After the man kills me I mean.

I'll see her again.

Images of my past flashed like stars in my memory. They were long gone but I could still see them. Unlike the pretty stars that twinkle in the night sky, my memories grin with mischief and delight of my own pain.

I saw my little self get beaten up. I remember classmates ganging up on me and having a go at the new pale little skinny girl.

I saw myself cry at night. I used to wish death upon my parents. I thought maybe if I cried hard enough some of the pain would go away. It didn't.

I saw myself fail at trying to protect my body. My father delivered blow after blow that caused scares I could never erase or forget.

I saw myself smile as I tripped one of the kids who were running down the school corridors. Running isn't tolerated in this school.

I saw myself watch other kids as they played while I sat in a corner counting the sticks I drew on a wall. Five sticks.

I saw myself cry as I waited for my father to show up in front of the school. He was late. It was getting dark. I was so scared. I had to have waited at least seven hours before he showed up later that night.

I saw myself draw another stick on that back wall.

I saw myself clean various cuts on my forearms and legs from the kicks and scratches my father gave me.

I saw myself curse the day I was born at the age of 11.

I saw myself lose my sanity and slip into insanity.

I saw myself lose myself.

The house door slammed open and my breath refused to come out. It was like my airway was scared and so decided to close up for the time being. Like it knew something wrong was going to happen to me.

I wish I could hide. I wish I could scream. I wish I could die at the very least.

Watching the cloaked man slowly make his way towards me. My eyes followed his every move. With every sway of his large cloak, with every step he took towards me, with every moan from the ground underneath his shoes, I released a breath.

With every breath I took, I counted it as the last one.

With every blink, I assumed it was the final one.

Thoughts raced through my head and I wondered which one I would be thinking of when I die.

There he was, 12 feet away from me. 10 feet away from me. 7 feet away from me.

He was getting close. He was so close.

His grey eyes scanned me as he closed the distance between my pathetically weak disaster of a body and his large frame.

"Are you hurt?" I teared up.

His voice. Oh my dear, god! His voice.

I feared to try and describe his voice. I didn't want to mess with perfection. So I left it as that. A voice.

Tears streamed down my face and I imagined my nose taking on a blushing shade of red.

He seemed to notice them because soon he was crouching down low to the ground and with his hand, he reached over and wiped my tears away.

Although it seemed like he didn't want me to cry, my tears continued on with their dancing. Gliding.

His hidden face tilted a little to the side as if to question the reason for my crying but I just couldn't help it. He reached over again and wiped away more of my tears but as he touched a sore spot on my face, I flinched back.

It hurt. I hurt.

His beautiful voice forgotten and my aching body remembered. I remembered why I was on the ground. I remembered why everything was so calmingly black. I remembered why this stranger was here. To kill me.

I stopped sobbing and looked at the man of darkness. I swallowed whatever wetness I had left on my tongue and tried to clear my voice but the burning sensation that inflamed my throat halted me from even attempting to speak.

He saw it. He understood me. "I will not hurt you," he said slowly.

A new set of fresh tears rolled down my face and I heard him sigh. Fuck.

"Stop crying or I'll give you something to really cry about," He ordered firmly.

I stopped. Like I didn't even shed an ounce of tear after that horrifyingly calm threat. I just stopped instantly. I watched him as he watched me.

His head tilted to the other side, "good girl." I swear I could hear a smirk in his voice.

"I will pick you up now," he stated. He wasn't asking, more like informing me. "Where is your bedroom?"

My eyes almost instantly zoomed onto my bedroom door down the hallway across from us and he knew to follow them. He studied the hallway and my bedroom door with his eyes, then he turned back to me.

It was time.

I watched him. I shook my head and tried to move back but I moaned as pain crawled up my body. I shook my head more and felt my tears make a reappearance from both the pain and the knowledge of what was about to happen.

Please. Don't touch me. Please.

He shook his hooded head slowly and started to reach out to me as I tried to get away from him. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing was coming out. Nothing.

I turned onto my stomach, trying my very best to ignore the blinding pain. With my bruised and battered arms, I reached out for the dirty carpet ahead of me planting my nails into its dirty texture I clawed my way away from the man. Or tried to.

The more I pushed my body to move away from him, the harder it became. I just really wanted to roll over and sleep. I literally clawed my way away from him. I used my legs to help me and, although I wasn't making much of a difference, I was satisfied with my effort.

I got about three feet away from him when suddenly all pain ceased to exist. I couldn't feel anything anymore. No pain. No throbbing. Nothing hurt.

It was magic.

I stopped. I stopped what I was doing and just stared at my arms expecting them to start hurting again, tingling with a warning for the pain to come.

Nothing.

The bruises were still there. The scares were still embedded into my skin like I was born with them. My skin still looked battered and bruised and hurt, but I didn't hurt.

One second I was staring at my pain-free arms, the next I was being lifted off of the ground. I felt strong large arms encircle my waist and saw the ground get farther and farther away from my reach. I watched as I slowly glided through the air above the ground.

I turned my head back to see the same man as before, his hood coving his face completely, carry me towards my bedroom. The body heat radiating off of his body was calming, and the way his body pressed against mine was almost familiar, but it felt so incredibly foreign to me.

I watched as my dirty off white bedroom door got closer to us and the nasty walls passed by us. When he got close enough, the Devil pushed the door open with his foot and walked into my bedroom like he owned the place.

Softly and carefully he placed me on the bed with the most gentlest of body movements then not a second later, he was gone.

Disappeared. He left. Just like that. Like a shadow in the night or a cloud in the sky.