Inscribed

A Story by Rachel

This is the intro to a story I'm developing, it's only the first draft

I closed my eyes. It doesn't seem real what I see flash before me. I got away. I barely escaped with my life. I can picture his hands around my waist, grasping at my fragile skin, the fear and excitement that filled his eyes and the terror that I know had filled mine. I could feel my breathe increasing and heart racing, as I am left anticipating the ending that I still feel is left hanging. His scruffy face, sharp blue eyes and pink lips twisted into that smirk is still burning through my skin. I could hear the laughter and force behind his voice as he threw me to the ground with the kitchen knife pointed towards me. The cold, crisp blade came down close to my face, and seconds before it penetrated into my skin, my eyes shot open. I looked around, the white walls that surrounded me that once looked so unfriendly, now enveloped me with warmth. They meant safety, they meant that he couldn't hurt me anymore. A small whimper escaped my mouth as I looked around the empty room. Each memory and bright thoughts that had once occupied my once innocent mind, now was bombarded with darkness, because of him. It feels like it was just yesterday that he almost killed me, but in reality it was three months later and here I was, still frozen in time. This is what he wanted, I bet he's in that cold as stone jail cell. I bet he's sitting their with the famous smirk plastered on his pathetic face that still sends chills up my spine, knowing he has ruined my life. I want to get out of this place, this "help center" as they call it , and go back to the life I once had, I want to go back to school and be with my friends and family. They wouldn't understand though, they would just judge me. They would judge me like he judged me. The reminder of him filled my ears with the deep voice ringing and repeating the taunting words he called me that night. I closed my eyes again ready to embrace the oncoming picture show. But before the movie could start from the beginning again, the door of my lonely white room opened.