All I wanted was to live through this or die. Or to never have been born. The whole of my existence

“Fine,” she looked up as a man with a scar running down his cheek smiled sinisterly. She didn’t trust him, she moved to try to get out of his reach but he pulled his arm out. Her eyes widened in horror as his fist came forward, she had stopped crying, watching the fist as if it was coming at her slowly. When it hit her face she barely registered it, it didn’t hurt, only stung and sent a shock through her body. Another fist came, then another. Her vision was going blurry, she heard them say something but she couldn’t make out what it was as her body fell limp against the seat and her eyes shut, unable to handle the pain in her

Eyes closed, hands clasped, feet placed together, she looks almost peaceful... But there is nothing peaceful about her death. The angry red lacerations that decorate her neck, highlight her struggle. As I continue to gaze upon the victim, I can’t help shake this familiar feeling.

There was a burning sensation going down her cheeks, they wouldn't stop. And no matter how hard she tried to hold it back she just ended up sobbing harder, taking large stuttering breaths every second. She could barely see, the tears clouded her eyes and she felt oh-so weak.

A thousand thoughts whirred in and out of my mind, none of which could be fathomed. I stared down at my hands, those of a perpetrator. They seemed to be tainted with blood, red as flame. Flashes of pearlescence came before my eyes, blurred by tears, numbed by pain. The entirety of the episode cascaded around and through me; it flooded my lungs, burnt through my veins, and deprived me of freedom. It wasn’t me, I swear.

Kristien was struggling to sleep. It was night, she knew, because Israel had told her good night. Her wrist hurt really badly, but what could she do, she was a prisoner. It wouldn’t hurt as much if the cuff wasn’t pressing on it, but the cuff was, and she couldn’t move the cuff, it was secure. She knew what had happened. Chandrogana had accidentally hurt her wrist, but she didn’t know if it was just twisted, sprained or broken. By the time the doctor came to see her, her eyes were watering, it hurt so badly. The doctor came in, and didn’t say a word to Kristien. Just went to the panel in the wall. He scanned his handprint, and then typed in instructions. The one cuff on her hurting wrist, the left one, uncuffed, and Kristien felt a little bit of relief. But it was still very, very painful.

The fistful of hair wrapped snugly in a vice-like grip was beginning to bring tears to my eyes; however, he burning pain that shot through my scalp was nothing compared to the burning deep in my heart. The wails of a woman, presumably my mother, but possibly my own, were stuck in a never ending loop, consisting of pleas and indistinguishable sobs that made my head throb. The light yellow walls of the kitchen and the deep red shade of the door came into focus through bleary eyes, causing panic to constricted around my chest like a

The sun was dipping below the horizon, and a fiery young girl’s room began to sink into a deep shade of gray-- deepening the ceaseless melancholy that settled upon her. Each night, Cassie would break; she would look at me with her all-too-sobered eyes and solemnly whisper that she couldn't eat, or that the latest slice in her skin was just a little too deep. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. The pain inside her was so great that she had to resort to extremes: She had to slice her skin, hoping that she just might be able to distract herself from the excruciating chaos of her mind being torn apart. It didn’t matter how much harm came to her as a result. She honestly believed that her frail, undernourished body was “pudgy” and “disgusting.”

The water dragged and strapped her down from all possible sides. The more she struggled the more disorientated she became. Left, right, up, down she couldn’t make any sense of it all. She pushed with her arms and legs but she couldn’t find any leverage, for all she knew she was forcing herself further down. Her lungs craved for more air and even though she knew she wouldn’t receive enough, her body still took a final breath. Cold water filled her lungs, burning her throat as if hundreds of needles had pierced into it. Her muscles relaxed and she was oddly calm for a moment - then everything slowly faded too black.

“C’mon Alyssa!” She grabbed my hand and yanked me out of my frozen state, Practically lifting me off my feet. My heartbeat sped up I could hear nothing but the sound of heavy footsteps behind me, my heartbeat, my deep heavy breaths. The foot steps behind me weren't running but walking, walking after us. We ran up into her yard and opened her door fast and slammed it shut. I watched in shock as her fiddled with lock on the door.

Even though I was very weak, I could feel warmth through my arms that gave me strength. My grip was not painful but yet their eyes grew wide as their necks stiffened. I was replaying all of the moments that they had wanted to forget. Death, violence, childish innocence. All with my bare fingers. “Sylwia, leave.” I said softly. All of my energy is destroying itself in this moment as I continue to press my fingers. I can barely speak already. I tried to make her understand the severity of the situation. Her thoughts ran through my mind, all of them panicked. She ran to grab some of her things. Before both of our hearts could burst, she whispered, “I will see you in the next life, Leon.” How could she know? I tried opening my mouth to speak, but suddenly the muscles in my jaw clenched shut. All of the lights flickered in the apartment. I could not utter a single world as my head knocked back to reveal a new world of

“ It’s going to be fine, Asher Simmons. You’re going to be alright,” the doctor stated calmly and clinically. Ashley lied pale on the bed as she was being rolled into the hospital. Her vision blurry; the sounds of whirring machine and wails of her family in the background indicated where she was. Glimpses of her surroundings flashed before her eyes. Ashley was paralysed; a wave of gratitude and relief swept over her. Like everything in her life she was worried that the poison would be a disappointment, but now she was thankful knowing her death wouldn’t also be a failure.

I immediately leaned down and pressed my fingers against his neck to check for a pulse. I was surprised to feel a pulse on his clammy skin. It was shallow, light, but there. We looked into each other’s eyes, however we both knew it was futile. He stared back at me in pure fear. I smiled to try and reassure him that soon he will be on the long road and won't be scared or in pain anymore. I could see the fear die a little at the same time that the bright light drained from his eyes. They turned glassy, and I knew he was gone. I let go of his arms and watches the muscles relax into the slow release of the dead.

He knew that it was colder than fifty below zero when he tried to spit the juice from his chewing tobacco and it wasn't unable to clear his chin before it froze. "The result was that a crystal beard of the color and solidity of amber was increasing it’s length on his chin." Several times he comments that the cold was making his hands and feet numbed, and frostbite was killing his cheeks. He thinks, "What were frosted cheeks? A bit painful, that was all..." The man also lost circulation in his hands when he took off his gloves. He rubbed his face and beat his hands, but this only temporarily brought back the circulation. His fingers "seemed remote from his body" because he could not move them. Earlier, he ignored an initial sign from nature with a submerged spring because he wanted to get to “the boys” by six. Not long after he stepped through the ice into knee deep freezing water. The most obvious clues that the man took in were internal. "He wondered whether his toes were warm or numb." When he tried to light his last fire, his flesh burned. He knew it was burning because "he could smell it". He didn't even feel his hands burning. The man thought that it was "curious that one should have to use his eyes to find where his hands were." Eventually, no amount of running or thrashing could have awaken feeling in his body.

" Dimitri ! Release me ! " . she yelled once more . It had been two days already and there where barely any signs of improvement in her condition . I was getting worried but I believed in her . She was so strong , I knew she would snap out of it . I remained silent and simply moved closer to take (1)her (2)hand . Or at least try to take (3)her (4)hand she wouldn't let me touch her since she had gone into this state . Every time I would come close or try to touch her she would try her best to move away , showing disgust through her eyes . It was painful for me to see but I knew this wasn't her . This was the darkness . However I couldn't help but think that the darkness was revealing what she never dared to tell me . Which is that she never saw me the same

There was no room full of witnesses-- already I saw them as collateral damage in my head. The mystery of her thoughts was the last thing on my mind. Her thoughts meant absolutely nothing, for she would not continue thinking them much longer. I hadn’t ever imagined such a scent could exist. If I’d known it did, I would have gone searching for it long ago. I would have combed the planet for her. I could imagine the taste… Thirst burned through my throat like fire. My mouth was utterly baked and desiccated. The fresh flow of venom did nothing to dispel that sensation. My stomach violently twisted with the hunger that was an echo of the thirst for blood. My muscles ironically full of life, coiled to spring. Not a full second passed. She