29th December 2013, 12:36 PM #1
The water had long since run cold. The pressing silence was broken on occassion by the onomatopoeiac drip from that cold steel tap. In the small tub, a girl sat, huddled, body pressed up against the freezing ceramic. Stark naked, and very damaged, she endured the ritual for yet another day.
Her pretty white teeth were very nearly chattering, but they weren't yet; the chattering would come soon. She hadn't been in her escape vessel for that long, although the pruning had set in - her skin had wrinkled, giving her a withered, pinched look. Skeletal arms wrapped tightly around legs, hugging them closer, retaining body heat perhaps, or maybe the foetal position suited her state of mind better; I don't know what she was thinking, no one did, and that was the problem.
The water had gone a light brown colour by this stage, but that was nothing new - part of the cleansing process involved scrubbing her makeup-clad face raw. It had to all go. The makeup could only be her temporary shield - a beautiful mask that protected her from their comments for so long. At home, here, it was not welcome.
All her face had been scoured, and it wasn't such a pretty sight right now. Acne had claimed its territory here and there, black tracks - all that remained of her mascara, connected her sad eyes and her chin. The lips did not look so ruby red and attractive as they had earlier. Her previously-immaculate hair was now ragged and patchy looking, as though parts of it had been yanked out; some hair floated in the tub, on the opposite end, though. Her mask was gone, and her demons had come for her.
Betwixt trembling fingers, an old friend was perched on his throne; a little blade that caught the light and promised release. All she had to do was give him what he wanted, and she wouldn't have to feel it anymore. Any of it. Just one quick nick down the length of each arm and she would be free; a sweet release. But, it terrified her still. She had tried, unsuccessfully, and perhaps it was deliberately unsuccessful; the evidence could be seen on those thin little arms of her, particularly the wrists. Little red scars - angel kisses.
On the bathroom tiles, clothes had been discarded. These were her clothes - ripped from her body in disgust after school. Purposefully-torn fish-net stockings, mini skirt, heels. It hurt her knowing how close these things were, but they would be her comforts tomorrow, just as they had been today. Her clothes weren't just a way to label her, they were a form of expression, and they gave her the guilt-ridden attention she craved when she was out. The way those eyes followed her every movement, she needed it. Even the catcalls and whispers of what she was, she needed it all. People needed to know she existed.
She had been hurt. Abusive stepfather was the cause of most of the yellow and purple bruises that littered her body, but there were also so many cuts and scratches caused by his pet: a sweet-looking red and grey bird with mischievous beady eyes. When her step-father was in a drunken stupor, he oft commanded the bird to punish her with its sharp beak and claws. However, the pain she really felt was much worse than mere physical pain. Shame and guilt, the constant feeling that she was nothing but people's amusement - a pitiful state, a horrible excuse for a human being. That brought bitter tears back to her eyes, as it did, every day.
A door slammed suddenly downstairs. It was amazing how such an insignificant noise, something so easily missed, could instill so much fear in her. He was a bad man with an even worse temper. She knew what was coming, yet she sat still in the bathtub, holding her breath - holding onto it for dear life. Maybe if she was quiet, he would forget about her today. But he never did.
She could hear his clumsy movements up the stairs, the groans of the steps beneath his weight. As he reached the peak, she gulped. A lump of fear had caught in her throat. Soon, there were bangs on the bathroom door. Clutching onto the sides of the tub, she panicked. Her heart raced. Fingers trembled so much she dropped the little blade. It landed with a little splash as it broke the water surface.
His rough alcohol-empowered voice was demanding she opened the door. He was a brute of a man anyway, but alcohol really brought out his vicious side. She had to answer the door to him before he knocked it down, that much she knew. Unless...
The piece of metal shone on the bottom of the bathtub, reflecting the light. It was such a bright little blade. The brilliant light offered a sense of hope, an escape from it all. She knew of its power, of what it offered, and she was tempted. So very tempted. It would just need a swift stroke or two, and it'd all be over.
He banged on the door, harder now. The very frame shook with each strike. She gave the little razor one final glance.
The man whistled then. It seemed a soft, gentle thrill, but it had a malicious, evil undertone. She knew what was coming, but that did not make it any easier to respond to. Stock-still she sat in the cold water and heard the response: a sweet little melody, similar to the man's jingle, but with a higher register. The musical chirrup seemed so happy, but it was not. Not for her.
"I warned you, bitch," the voice said plainly from the other side of the door. "You left me with no choice."
From where she sat, she had full view of the window. The pane of glass had long-since been removed and she could see the pale blue sky outside. She had tried barricading the window before, but the little bird could fit through the slightest of gaps, and when it had been delayed, it was even angrier. By now, she had given up, accepted her fate. She knew what was to come, so why delay the inevitable?
A little creature dropped down onto the window sill. She looked at it, and it looked at her. It was a small, grey bird with a red-orange head, and a long black tail with one jagged white stripe on it. The beady black eyes seemed to penetrate under her skin, as if the bird, too, was judging her. They both knew knew what was to come, what had to happen. The Fletchling cocked its head a little to one side, eyeing her up, before breaking into the flight.
It took only a few flaps of the powerful wings before the avian being was upon her. Her arms went up defensively, uselessly, as the creature struck at her. The agile bird jabbed at her skin with its sharp little beak, piercing it where it struck. The talons lashed out, leaving fresh marks on her wrinkled skin, and tearing open old scars that had time to heal, and others that had not quite healed yet. She closed her eyes tightly, and bit back tears.
i deserve this
Flesh throbbing, red and raw, with marks and fresh cuts scattered here and there, the bird took leave, soaring elegantly out through the window, chirping all the while. It would get fed later, she knew. It was not so much the bird's fault - it was an amoral creature, incapable of making such decissions when it was hungry.
Body aching, she sat in the tub for quite some time. The trials of the day were over, she knew. The big man would feel guilty by now, or more often than not, pass out drunk and reaking of alcohol on the couch down below. She would have the next few hours to herself, as she did every day, and, despite the fresh pain, she would almost enjoy them. Now cleansed of all of the day's wrongdoings, she was free to relax, and read, or maybe do her homework, or sit outside on the lawnchair and get some fresh air as night came about.
Rising out of the bathtub, and drying herself, she began her night. She picked up the clothes on the tiles and she folded them carefully. She smiled as she stood there, naked and wounded, clothes folded in her arms.
Today was over, and she could be herself again. Tomorrow, the cycle would begin, but, that was not any concern to her right now because now, right then and there, she was free.
Last edited by Synthesis; 2nd January 2014 at 03:39 AM.
29th December 2013, 12:37 PM #2
Re: drip WWC
29th December 2013, 01:32 PM #3
The Artful Codger
Re: drip WWC
people keep stealing ma claimz
you won't see anything on this for like a week lol
2nd January 2014, 03:10 AM #4
The Artful Codger
Re: drip WWC
Graded and deleted in the name of WWC!