Silence It

Someone pressed a knife into the girl’s hand. Her eyes fluttered open, settling on a short, shaking man. His eyes were scared as he backed away.

She gripped the knife like her life depended on it. She scowled, thinking about all the pain and suffering she’d endured, and the noise. Silence it, silence it, silence it. A little voice in her head sang. She pulled against the restraints, barely noticing the burn against her already red wrists.

Somebody moved behind her, placing their hands on the table and pushing it forward, the girl still on it. It seemed to take forever before it stopped. Hands flew around her, performing tasks she couldn’t keep track of because the bright lights made her dizzy. The bindings on her left arm were removed, the skin that had once been rubbed raw tingled. The door behind her swung shut, the clicking of locks echoing in her head.

One at a time, she flexed each of her fingers on her left hand, and raised her arm. She was free. She passed the knife to her left hand, and turned her head to focus on sawing away the restraints that held her right arm down, though it was difficult to handle the blade with her non-dominant hand. Soon, however, her other arm was free too. She sat up on the table, the blood rushing through her body again, making her dizzy. For once, there was no ache of metal at the back of her head, no tight ropes on her arms. She examined her hands, red and bleeding, they looked nothing like the soft, delicate tissue she’d had . . . how long ago? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember being anything but this.

Scowling, she took the knife in her right hand again, and sawed furiously away at the bindings on her legs. Soon, she was completely free. She hopped down, her body swaying when her feet hit the ground. She crouched, tucking her head between her knees. She didn’t like this tingly feeling that rushed through her body, not one bit.

It took her awhile to hear the heartbeat. Not hers. It was too fast, thudding like the wings of a hummingbird, thump, thump, thump. It was loud, too loud. Her ears were bleeding, the crimson dropping onto the floor, drop, drop, drop. She needed to silence it. She shook at the thought of blood beneath her feet, power racing through her veins, vengeance in her mind.

She stood, slowly, straightening her back, stretching out every stiff muscle in her mind. She rolled her neck, not even cringing at the sound of it creaking. Her eyes darted around the room. White walls, ceiling, floor, light. A small boy crouched in the corner, not even seven. Thump, thump, thump. She took a step forward. Kill, kill, kill. The boy screamed, the sound shaking the earth, splitting the walls open again and she shrieked, dropping her knife and lunging toward him. Silence it, silence it, silence it. She caught his neck between her hands and squeezed, squeezed the noise and the crying back into his lungs. She pushed all of her rage and her sorrow and her agony into her palms, pushing, pushing, pushing.

His body fell limp, his amber eyes wide, the fear melting away. The heartbeat stopped, her ears rang. Thump, thump, thump. Her own heart. Tears slid down her cheeks as she slumped over, allowing all the tears to come, the mental breakdown she’d had inside leaking out through her eyes. The world faded away into nothingness, only her and the boy’s body left. Thump, thump, thump. Her own heart growing louder into a steady beat of drums. Thump, thump, thump.

She cried, not to mourn the boy, but what she’d become. She knew she wasn’t this, but they’d made her this way, this thing, this monster.

“Are you happy?” She screamed between sobs. “Is this what you wanted me to do? Is this what you wanted me to become?” There was no stopping this endless waterfall, and the room was flooding, flooding, flooding, and she was drowning, and she couldn’t breathe, and she was dying, dying, dying like the monster she was.

She felt hands on her arms and only then did she realize she had her own fingers around her own neck and she was squeezing, squeezing the life out of her own body. She screamed and screamed but against her own hands it was useless, no sound could escape those murderous fingers that now clenched her neck.

Hands pried her fingers away from her neck, pulling her back, pulling her away from the corpse of her first victim.

“No! Please, please, don’t put me in the blood room again!” She screamed, her throat horse. She struggled against the arms that pulled her away. Her neck stung, and the whole room started to fade again. “I’m fading! Please, help me, I’m fading away, and I’ll never come back again and . . .” she let her voice dissolve as she felt her body grow tired. She fell limp on the floor, but her eyes remained open, her mind remained aware. Somebody rolled her over, pulling her up. She willed her expression to remain blank as they picked her up.

“Are you sure she won’t murder me?” The person said to something she couldn’t quite locate. Something in her heart snapped, and she felt her whole body react. She wiggled free, slamming her body into them, smacking them to the ground. A sickening crack rose into the air, and she found herself on top of them, her hands around their neck. For a second, their face was the boy’s, terrified and innocent, but she shook her head. No, this person wasn’t innocent. They made her this. They deserved to die, yet they made her kill an innocent.

She was crazy, she was crazy, she was bloodthirsty, she wanted to erase her and she wanted to erase the memory of her. The only way to do that was to take away the holders of the memory, she decided as she watched another slip away at her fingers like sand in an hourglass. 

Author's Note

I'd love it if you'd leave a review. I've worked pretty hard on this one.