User:Candied-Yams

The sun went down again on that horizon…that damned horizon .All it ever reminded me of was the wretched world that I was forced to look at, live in, be a part of every single day. I was done. I was so tired of all the people I was forced to deal with, all the things they did to me. I just wanted it all to end, all the headaches, the stress, the fear and hate and everything in between. In that moment when I had the cold metal end of the barrel to my dad’s 9mm, handgun, in that moment, all I felt was relief. As if soon all the pain…all the sorrow…all the emotion that kept rattling around my head would just be gone, for good. I looked at that sun as it just began to disappear over the edge of the horizon. I wanted to see it one last time that beautiful light, was all I had in my life. The only good thing I had here. My hand was shaking as I was trying to pull the trigger trying to be brave. But, the shaking stopped, and a cold feeling crawled over the skin on the back of my hand.

“Now, my dear, why would you want to do that,” I will never forget the first time I heard that voice. It sounded so sweet, as if someone trapped honey, sugar, and silk in it. But I never could have guessed all the evil that lied in that sweet voice. At the time all I could think about was her kind, hazel eyes and her long brown hair that perfectly framed her porcelain skin. The only thing that made me wary was her skin. It was so cold. But that voice pulled me back to those warm eyes, pulled me into her arms as she held me, cradled me. Let me cry in her arms as she slowly stroked my hair.

“Shhhh,” she spoke softly, letting each word slowly roll off her tongue, “It will all be ok, sweetie. Now tell me. Who did this to you? Who hurt you?” I just couldn’t help but feel so safe, so warm, so loved as she listened careful as I divulged every secret, every torture, and every nightmare. I just kept crying. Kept talking, telling her everything. I told her about my abusive father, my depressed mom who killed herself, all the kids at my school and what they did to me, even worse was how the rest of the town treated me. How they throw me out turned a blind eye to every beating and close call. They let me die inside while they scared the outer shell. I didn’t want to tell her. This girl I had just met. I didn’t mean to. It felt like every word was being dragged from my lips. It all made me feel so tired. With every word and every tear I could feel myself getting more and more tired and sleepy. I slowly began to slip in and out of consciousness. Soon I was unaware of anything. Next thing I knew I was laying in bed. She had tucked me in. She had done it with such care, I actually believed she cared, for a minute I really believed.

She had knelt down next my bed, looked me in the eye, that voice, “It is all going to be ok. I will make all of them pay. They will all know what it felt like to suffer the way you have.” She gave a soft smile. As she stood I got a good glimpse of her, she have a knee length black dress with sleeves down to her elbows to show off her scars. She seems as if she was proud of them. Under the skirt of her dress was a maze of electric blue tulle. She had black tights that lead to old black Victorian heels that made that clicking noise. I loved that noise. But…she was holding an axe. It was a simple woodcutter’s axe but something seemed so off about it. Something about it seemed more elegant, more beautiful. It had a grace to it that a simple old axe shouldn’t have. I saw her pull open the door to the bedroom, and a shadow coming down the hall.

“HEY YOULI-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!” I heard my father scream, more than obviously drunk. I saw her move down the hall, raising her axe.

“HEY, HEY WHAT DO...?” Were that last words I heard before all went black.

I sat up straight in my bed beginning to hyper ventilate. I was going to… I was going to, and then one thought ran through my head.

“Where is she?” I bolted out of my bed still in yesterday’s clothes as I charged out the door. When I opened my door to enter the second floor hallway I saw the walls, floor, the windows covered in dried blood. Not just a little, but gallons of it. Where did all of the blood come from? I couldn’t think of where it could from, then, my dad, that girl. No, she was too nice, wasn’t she. I could barely move from all the fear that was coursing through my veins. I finally was able to move. I ran over the blood and stumbled down the stairs only to careen with the front door before wiping it open and hurtling outside. I ran down the front walk then briskly walked down the side walk. I was crying so hard. I hated my dad but the thought of him dying in a way that would leave so much blood was horrible. Or, what if he crossed the line, he did that to someone. It took me about 2 blocks of walking before I noticed how utterly quiet the town was. It was a grey day and you couldn’t see the sun but it had to be about 3 in the afternoon. Yet, there were no cars in the street, no people on the sidewalks, not even kids on the play ground.

Then I heard my name. Whispered like it was part of the wind, “Come, my dear,” that sweet voice, “This way.” But it was a part of the wind. I looked in the direction of the “wind”. It was coming from the school. My curiosity overcame me as I saw a girl wearing a black dress walk in the front door to the main lobby. I started racing toward the school. Her it had to be her, she was the last one I knew who saw my dad. Maybe she had done it, maybe, no, right? I just kept running until I slammed into the front door of my school pushing it open in the process as I broke into the lobby.

“Hello?” I yelled. I was about to cross the lobby to head to the right of the school when I heard the whisper again.

“No, sweetie, this way, come and see what I have done for you,” I slowly turned in the direction of the voice. It was coming from the auditorium, the place with the stage where we had the plays and stuff. I suddenly had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. ''Come and see what I have done for you''. What did that mean? I knew I should have run. I knew it in every fiber of my being. I should have turned around and run out the door but I had to know, what was in there, what was she doing? I walked slowly towards the door and my legs were shaking the entire time. It felt like an eternity before I grasped the door knob turning it to reveal the auditorium. It was pitch black. But when I moved to enter the room the spotlights flashed on, all pointing to the stage. And there in the middle of the stage… was her.

“Hello, love,” she said so happily. I continued to walk into the room to see that all the seats were filled.

“Can you come up here? I want to show you something wonderful!” She seemed so happy and proud like she had done something amazing. But she was holding something behind her back. I craned my neck to see if I could see around her.

“Ah, no, you have to wait otherwise you’ll ruin the surprise.” I just walked down the aisle up to the stage. How I never thought to look at the people who were sitting there, why didn’t I look? I could have run. Although I guess that wouldn’t have done me much good, I still would have seen what I saw. All of this was inevitable really. When she shows up there is no way to escape, this is bound to happen, no matter what you do you can’t stop her. But I didn’t know that, so I kept walking till I had climbed up the stairs standing on the opposite side of the stage at the edge of her line of spotlights.

“Come closer! Come here,” she called beckoning me to join her in center stage. Against my better judgment I did as she said and joined her. She wrapped one of her arms around my shoulder moving her opposite arm to her side and now I could see. In her other hand she was holding… that axe. The woodcutter’s axe and it was drenched in blood. Not just the axe but that whole arm. I looked the one wrapped around me was covered in blood as well.

“Now, for your surprise,” she looked down at me sweetly, “Let there be light!” Suddenly all the lights in the auditorium burst to life. But there in there glow was not life, it was nothing but death. Everyone, every person in town, all the people who turned a blind eye to my abuse, who abused me, who laughed to avoid punishment, they all lay in, across, over the seats. But then there were some people who weren’t in the seats…they were hanging from the ceiling from chains and rope. Tied upside down, hung by the neck, hung by every limb. They were better off than the people who were in the seats. All of them had, or almost had, their heads completely severed. Heads of the people I knew lay all over the place; some were on the opposite side of the room from their body. Some were only half attached to the body, still held together by strands of muscle tissue, spinal cord, or flesh. Blood was splattered across the walls reaching 10-15ft. up sticking out against the tan wallpaper. I couldn’t speak as I covered my mouth with my hands as I fell to my knees tears welling in my eyes.

“Don’t you love,” that girl said cheerily beaming as she spread her arms wide gesturing to the massacre.

“How… WHY WOULD I LOVE THIS?” I screamed at her tears now streaming down my face.

“But, I did this for you. I made them pay for what they did to you, what they made you want to do.” She looked confused and heartbroken. He eyes were so innocent and sweet. Like a child almost, but I knew she couldn’t be innocent. I stood and started to run off the stage back toward the door.

“Please no! I was only trying to help you. I did what you would have…” I interrupted her before she could finish.

“SHUT UP!” I screamed tears streaming down my face as I tripped and fell into a small puddle of blood. I just kept crying and I couldn’t stop. I looked up trying to see how much farther the door was only to be meet by those, stupid old black heels. At this point all my voice could manage was a faint ‘I hate you’. She knelt down onto one knee and gripped the bottom of my chin pulling my head up. Even in the beginning when I was crying, when she went to kill my dad, when I told her all the things these people did to me I never saw in her eyes what I saw now, pure darkness. The innocence that had once coated her eyes and her voice was gone. When she spook again her voice was not the sweet, beautiful, entrancing song it had been; now it was deep and dark. I would never forget that voice. It was filled with such rage and hate.

“Fine then,” she spat. “Have it your way.” She pushed my face away in an act of disgust. She turned and walked back toward the door. Her heels making that awful clicking noise.

“I will be seeing you. Bye Bye, love,” she boomed as she pushed the double doors open walking away as I curled into a ball, crying till there was nothing left inside. She just… left me there. I don’t know for how long, but the people here say I was there for about 3 or so days before the police found me. I don’t know why I am here. They say I “snapped” behind my back when they think I can’t hear. I keep telling them it wasn’t me, it was her. You know she keeps coming back; sometimes I think I am just dreaming. I know I am not because she keeps leaving these dead butterflies. I have grown to love them though. They look like her, all black with hints of electric blue here and there. I have grown to love her. She is the only other person who knows what happened that day. She told me her secrets to, like her name, where she came from, who she was. She is just as broken as I am, she is Melancholia and she made me a promise. Anyone who hurts me the way all those other people did will pay dearly. Now all you people think this is just some story, you don’t believe a word. That hurts me, so you will pay dearly. Go ahead lock your doors and windows, turn the security system on, sleep with a gun, do whatever you wish. You can’t stop her. So keep your ears open for that special little sound… clicking of heels. Maybe you will survive.

But it isn’t very likely.