Her lips formed strange and unusual sounds, her eyes closed softly and her cheeks paled. From her side belt she withdrew a small knife, a dagger. With a quick movement she cut her left hand with the dagger. As the drops of blood hit the cold marble floor the knife also clattered to the ground. The girl remained speaking her foreign tongue and let her life's blood run down her outstretched arm.
She whipped her eyes towards him, but suddenly lurched and fell to the ground. The world slowed, she felt something warm and sticky pool around her. She had managed to turn her head in his direction, only then seeing the enemy army that had caught up with them. One knight savaged her son with his sword and then discarded his body. She tried to reach him, but a spear protruding from her back weighed her down. Then she saw us again, watched as the way the enemy avoided us . She felt cold, knowing her time had come , she looked right in my eyes as her life thread was cut. The end frayed as her body slumped to the ground, but it didn’t matter. She was one insignificant life that we had
Learning to fight for your life was easier than this. Though the life was difficult in itself nothing came close to the difficulty of watching someone you love walk away, it seemed to only get harder even if it was your fault in the end. Pushing people away was a specialty of his and when it actually worked it was earth shattering. The silence pointed out the flaws that he’d managed to go without noticing with her by his side but now they screamed at him yet again. He was back to the self-destructive, sacrificial, self-loathing creature he always was. Though he always knew his family was broken it wasn’t even close to this damaged. He wasn’t the only one that felt the loss, his brother had lost someone as well. It was a feeling in the air
“Demaris was shot.” He stopped. “I’m sorry.” Then he left without saying anything else. After we heard the slam of the door, I fell to the ground. My mother and I laid there the rest of the night and cried ourselves to sleep.
She had taken care of him, suffered through his fits of rage, accepted his blind addiction to loving himself, and his inability to sympathize with there needs. She was alone, isolated, and her pain was denied by his constant need for the world to revolve around his compulsions. This contradictory life weighed heavily on her, until one day she cold not live with it any longer. He came home on one of his low days. He was upset by his business, rattling on about how his business associates had wronged him. As he was ranting, something in her snapped, she grabbed the kitchen knife to her left and stabbed
It has been at least an hour and a half since the attack. She does not remember anything that happened. She slowly get up and reaches for the doorknob. A sudden shot of pain went up her arm. Blood then started dripping from her hand. She had been cut. A knife stabbed her in her hand. “Ow.”, She then blacks out.
One night, thoroughly past her bedtime, Georgiana crept stealthily downstairs to sneak a bite of pie, even though her mother would never approve. She immediately realized a heavy drape of desolation. The only noise was her heart beating to the rapid rhythm of the twitching fan. Georgiana thought that no one would be awake at one in the morning. She slipped through the doorway into the kitchen. For an instant, her heart stopped. A dreadful sight stood in her way. An innocent and isolated individual lay with his hand grasping for life, but it was already over. Taking a step back, she
I walked to the room at the end of the hall that led to the attic. I slowly placed my foot on the first step, calling out for Nancy. When I finally reached the top, I saw a long haired woman standing by the window with her backed turned to me. "Chelsea? What the hell are you doing here?" She was holding an axe in her hand and I started backing up, with no intention on going any further. She turned around and to my surprise, it was not Chelsea at all, but Nancy. She had blood rolling down her forehead, from the scalp that was ripped from Chelsea's head. "Oh, Dear," she said. "You gave me quite a fright." She started walked toward me. "What do you think?" She asked, running her fingers through the
Everyone is screaming and running out of the cafe’. Winston fell to the ground, Julia screamed “HELP!! HELP!!” She looked up to see if she could she who shot Winston but no one was in sight. Julia cried “Winston, no, no, no, stay with me. I can’t lose you again.” As she fell to the floor crying uncontrollably. Five minutes passed by and still no one had came in to help. Julia sat there traumatized of what had just happened, all she say was “This can’t be real, this can’t be real. I can’t continue to live with this pain.” Julia grabbed the knife from the table and slit her throat.
Smooth, thin, and cold, the sharp object lying in her hands trembled due to her petite quivering fingers. The unforgiving sharp blade effortlessly sliced through her skin, pain and then numbness overshadowed her thoughts. With the world weighing down on her shoulders and with the sense of oppression, the girl carved into her arm without a feeling of regret. Daring, she placed the knife parallel to her veins located under her thin pasty skin. Finally, with resolution, digging the knife into her small arm, the young tortured girl could feel the deadly weapon tearing and mutilating her long tender veins. Gasping for breath, the pain surged throughout her body. However, with agony coursing through her body, the victim would not stop her leisurely stroll to the grave.
As sick as it was Gabby needed a drink, and she hated herself for it. Pulling her knees up Gabby rested her head against them and wrapped her hands around her ears as if to block out the world. It felt as if she were being sucked down the rabbit hole, her world spiraling out of control. And the only anchor she had was dying next to her, and she was the one that killed him. "fuck." she sobbed softly tried to block out all the other people arriving. She wanted to crawl into her own skin and disappear, but she couldn't do that. At least not until she knew Hunter would be
Most Shadow Hunters ebing let through here older than she, but Rose was strong headed and demanded that she be let to go to protect her mother. Reluctantly they let her go, Scar usedd the parabatai bond as an excuse to go with her, sometime after Rose wished she'd saved herself the begging and had just ran for it like Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild later did. There were more Endarkened at the Citadel than the Clave had suspected, never-the-less Rose plunged herself into battle. The rush filled her vains as she let her arrows fly, then switched to her seraph blade. Then suddenly her blood ran cold and she froze where she stood. Daren stood infront of her, walking towards her with a blade gripped in his hand, his face that usually held a smile for her was now replaced with a grim determination. The kinda look he got when his prey was locked in, but this was the first time she'd ever had that look locked on her. She called to him and tried to reason with him, forgetting everything going on, forgetting that there was no reasoning with an Endarken. Rose could barely hear the sound of her parabatai screaming at her to remember, screaming warnings at her. She couldn't kill him...how could she... Daren stopped walking and coughed up blood into the white snow they stood on, it was then that she noticed the blade protruding from his chest. Scar, her parabatai had killed him. Rose gasped as she fell to her knees and sobbed. Scarlett quickly knelt beside her and forced her to regain her focus and remember what was really happening. Shutting off the pain the way she once did when she was so much younger she stood and rejoined the
Angela wasn’t ready for the sight of her baby sister hanging from the joists like a piece of meat on a hook. For a moment, all she could do was tremble and feel the hot tears run down her face. When she screamed, people all down Walsh and Bishop turned on their lights and looked to see what could have cause that sound. It was the sound of pure hurt and
As usual, he beat me to the bottom and crashed on a pile of leaves. The round started to tremble and my heart started to shake. “What’s happening”, Jonathan asked as hé followed.” I don’t know, What are you doing here?”, I asked. We raced to the bottom and there was, the hole that swallowed us all together in a blink of an eye. At moment everything changed. I yelled for the name of Jonathan, instead of seeing him come to me in my rescue, their he was lying on the floor. “ Aicha I knew you left and I knew why, but when heard you came back I couldn’t believe it. You look more beautiful than ever.”, he choked in every word. I didn’t know where the blood was coming from, it was everywhere. “ I know why she died? You were right I Keats believed you, but your uncle Damian didn’t do it.”, he said as every single teardrop landed on my shirt. His head near my chest, I was confused. “Where are you bleeding?”, I asked in anger. A glimpse a light shined and there was the bullet in his chest. “Listen to me, he’s here with us here, he did it to Faith. He shot me from telling you.” He was gone. I tried everything, in the end there I was, sitting in his blood trying to hold it together. Before he died he said I was right, Faith was raped, but by the person who was with us. “ Christopher”, I whispered to myself. Everything became even more darker and more silent until the only thing I heard was my heart
“My mother stood in the shadows of our kitchen, but she didn’t look at me and she didn’t say a word. Uncle took me tightly by the wrist. As he led me from the house, my mother reached out her hand towards me and clawed the air as though trying to pull me back. Then she picked up my little brother and hid behind the door, but I saw her face wither with pain and, in that moment, fear gripped my heart.” (Chapter 1, Page 5 and