Page 61 of Fractured Souls

"You make us do this to you!"

"Lilian would be disappointed!"

I sob and curl myself up into the smallest ball I can until their words finally stop when they leave. I can't handle this anymore. I want to run away. I need to.

I wait until it's nighttime and I don't hear any noise in the house. I walk up the stairs to find the door unlocked… They really believed I wouldn't try to leave? I head towards the back door and unlock it.

As soon as I step outside, I am roughly yanked back inside by my hair and thrown to the floor. The hits come so fast that I can't even tell who is hitting me. They keep coming. Hit. Hit. Hit. Kick. Kick. Then I see the fist flying towards my face, but I'm too weak to move and everything goes black.

When I come to, I am in the basement again. I try to sit up and move and hear a clanking sound. I startle and sit up too fast. My head pounds, and my body aches, causing me to cry out.

Then I look down and see the cuff around my ankle… attached to a chain… attached to the center of the basement floor… No.

"You'll never leave again unless we allow it." I look up towards the voice and see Mother standing on the stairs staring down at me with hatred in her eyes. She turns around and stomps up the stairs, slamming the basement door and leaving me in the dark.

I cry out, my body wracked with sobs.

I can't handle this. I can't be chained up. Locked away. Never to be found. No. It can't happen. I need… I need my mom. That's the only thing that can save me.

I get up slowly and make my way to the bathroom. I stare at myself in the tiny mirror above the sink, finding my eyes are sunk in. I've lost weight. I can barely move, and now I can never run away because I was so, so stupid the first time.

That leaves one option… I look around but see nothing. Then the mirror. If I just hit it hard enough…

I clear my mind. Not allowing any pain or grief or doubt in. I focus on what this could bring me. Peace. Rest. No more voices in my head. No more nasty words spoken to me.

It'll end it all. It'll save you.

I pull back my fist and punch the mirror.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

It shatters. My knuckles are bleeding, but I can't feel it.

Peace.

I pick up the sharpest piece of glass I find.

Rest.

I sit on the floor, leaning against the wall.

No more hatred.

I test it on my leg, slicing my thigh.

Seeing my mom.

I gasp as blood drips down from the sharp edge of the glass. It works.

I hold the glass over my wrist and slowly slice through the skin. I can feel it slicing, but I feel no pain. I feel bliss. I feel my broken soul finding its way to peace.

Before I can do the same to the other wrist, the glass is ripped from my hand and Mother is screaming in my face while holding a towel to my wrist.

I frown. Did I do it wrong? Am I in hell?

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