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My Story For The Writing Contest

Started by PhantomR
(2014-05-22 08:19:26)

PhantomR (2014-05-22 08:19:26)

"You stupid brat!" The blonde man towered over me as his eyes were hungry with blood lust.
"D-dad, I-I'm sorr-" I stuttered.
"You have no right to call me your father!" He snarled, "You can't even walk properly without tripping!"
I glanced down at my right ankle, I had gotten several small deep cuts on them when I had fallen. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, causing me to fall backwards and cut myself on the rocks below me. My right hand settled on my wound very gently, careful to not disturb my gash.
My mother walked into the room. She stared at my father and I.
"What'd the little brat do this time?" She asked, taking off her heels. "She tripped while she was walking," he told her, "how is that even possible?!"
"Whatever," my mother, a beautiful woman with light brown hair and the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever seen. To me, it looked like there were two tiny Earths in the center of each of her eyes.
She pulled off her heels and tossed them at us, my father father dodged easily, I tried my best to, but the heel of one scraped my left leg. I let out a cry softly. I whimpered quietly, tears rolling down my light red cheeks.
My father walked up to me and grabbed the heel and twisted it around in my wound, making me scream in overwhelming pain. My eyes rolled back as my hand moved down to cover them and stop the bleeding. My father pulled the shoe out of his my ankle and began to walk off,
"There will be more."

I dragged myself to my room, where I then crawled to my bed. Under it was a first aid kit with lots of bandages. This wasn't the first time my father had blown up and my mother didn't care, the only difference was that these wounds would leave a mark. It had always been a motto of my father, "If it doesn't leave a mark it doesn't matter."
I winced as I disinfected the hole in my ankle, tears held in my eyes from the pain I'd endured. I wondered if I would need stitches. My leg had blood dripping down from the sides, enough to make me pass out. I decided yes, so I pulled out the necessary items and began the medical procedure myself.

When I was done, I carefully wrapped my leg in bandages. I applied as much pressure as I could to help stop the bleeding.
My dog stared at me from the other side of the room. I walked over to him, and stroked his back softly. He barked happily. I smiled.

In gym the next day...

I limped to the batting area, the pitcher grinned. He whipped the baseball at me. I blanked out for a moment, the high speed of the ball reminding me of my father's fist when I had gotten a B+ on my test. I screamed and ducked down, the baseball made contact with my left eye. I fell backwards. I felt liquid trickling down my face, I reached up to wipe it. The liquid was a thick and dark crimson red. The pitcher screamed and ran to the teacher. I stared at the blood with my right eye, I knew my left eye was open, so why couldn't I see with it? I wondered what I looked like now, bad or good? I watched the teacher run up to the baseball field. She gasped in horror. She quickly pulled out her walky-talky and messaged the office to call 911. I guess I just had gotten my answer. Bad. Bad enough to scare the crap out of my teacher that supposedly 'isn't afraid of anything or anyone.'

After around half an hour, I was brought to the hospital, I was still confused, too confused to hurt. Everyone stared at me I was lead to the emergency room.
"Please stay here," a nurse told me, "we're going to get the doctor as fast as we can. He'll be here in a moment, okay?"
I nodded my head. The nurse looked like she had seen the scariest thing in the world. She was tall, about 5'9", and she reminded me of my mother just a bit, except she wasn't nearly as beautiful. She walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

My hospital room was clean, surprisingly. Since it was one of the dirtiest places in France. The walls were painted a milky white, with blue and red designs. The bed was neat, and there was a huge window on the furthest wall in a corner the left. I sat up and walked over to it. I stared in amazement from the sight of it. It was so interesting. My hand gently stroked the cold glass. I looked out from it, I could see a garden. It had beautiful flowers everywhere. It made me happy. Suddenly, the door to my room opened with a creak. The doctor stepped into the room. He was about in his mid-thirties or so. He had short black hair, and dark blue eyes. He looked at me with a strange expression on his face, but not one like my teacher or the nurse. He just looked surprised, not scared. He took out his clipboard from underneath his jacket.

"What's your name?" He asked.
"It's Heather," I replied.
I looked up at him.
"What's wrong with my eye?"
"The front of it is crushed, so you won't be able to see out of it again. We're going to replace it with a glass eye, alright?"
I nodded.

Two hours later...

I had gotten my glass eye put in. The doctor looked at me strange.
"What?"
"Your eye."
"What about it?"
He looked over to the mirror, a gesture for me to go look.
I looked at my reflection. Everything seemed alright.
"I don't see anything wrong."
"Look again."
Once again, I looked. Just as before, it was fine.
"Nope, I still don't see anything wrong. I look pretty norma-..."
I had now noticed it.

The surgeon had put a blue eye in instead of a brown one.
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" I screamed.

"Calm down. Come on, let's go back." He grabbed my hand gently and we walked down the hall.

After I had my operation I looked at myself in the mirror. My navy hoodie covered in mud from gym and my white shorts were practically brown.

A nurse passed by. I walked over to her. It was the same one that talked to me earlier.
"I see you have a new eye." She said.
"Yup! I'm glad." I replied back happily. She smiled and laughed.
"Do you need anything?" She asked.
"Nope, I'm fine."
"Okay," she said, walking down the hall.

I went over to the window again. It was 6:31 P.M now.

"You little brat!"
I tensed. It was my father. My eyes widened. I looked around for an escape route. How did my father find me? I was in a freaking hospital, they probably did a DNA test! I looked at the window, luckily, there was only one floor of this building, opened it and ran out. I saw my dad as he was half way through the parking lot. "You come back here now!" He ran into a young boy.
A yellow bird flew by.
I saw my dog approaching me, too.
He ran beside me.
The bird was flying above me.
"Why are you running from your father?"
"That's not my father."
"Yes it is."
"No it's not, you don't know him." Oh, crap, I thought, I'm talking to a bird! Am I insane?
The voice wasn't coming from the bird, it was coming from and boy behind me.

"You don't know him, go away."
"I do."
"No you don't."
"I do, I asked him if I could meet his daughter."
"I'm not his."
"May I speak to you?"
"You are."
The boy laughed heartily. He took my hand and we ran out of the parking lot.
It was midnight, I fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning, the boy was awake, too. He stared at me.

"What happened to your eye?"
"I got hit in the face with a stupid baseball."
"It's strange..."
"I know."
"Do you think anyone will judge you about it?"
"Why should they? I'm just like everyone else. I just have one flaw. I can still be just like I was before, nothing's changed. I'm still human."

He touched my eye. It brought back horrible memories. My hands shot up to his neck, I choked him. I didn't realize that he had a knife in his front pocket. It was strange-looking. He grabbed the knife and held it towards my other eye. I struggled, trying to continue choking him, but trying to save my other eye. His hand made a wrong move and gashed down my right cheek. I could feel the warm blood already dripping down. I held my hand to my face. He lunged at me and held me down on the ground, now holding the knife underneath my chin. I tried to grab his neck again, but this time I was the one being strangled. I'm going to die! I thought.

There's no way to survive...

I was prepared to be suffocated, or have my throat cut. I closed my eyes and took my last breath...

...The boy screamed.

My dog had bitten his arm, I could see a significant amount of blood pouring out of his arm. The sidewalk that was once a light grey was now dark crimson.
Now's my chance...
I grabbed the knife and stabbed him twice in his stomach.
I started running, looking back at his body, my dog by my side.
I stared down at my hands, blood... so much blood.

(Continued below, I ran out of room to type.)

This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:
2014-05-25 18:44:19

PhantomR (2014-05-22 16:38:55)

(Continued.)

I glanced over at my dog. His white paws had blood all over them. I smiled at him and whispered, "You're such a good dog. Thank you." I kissed his head. He wagged his tail and barked.
We were both happy, some animals are better than people. They understand you.
We walked to a nearby stream, I cleaned my hands in the water. It was a clear blue, I could see tiny fish swimming around. They seemed happy. I washed every trace of blood from my hands. It was as if my sins were cleansed, but I knew that they were not. The sky was a beautiful vivid orange, the red hot sun setting in the west, my light brown hair blowing in the cool breeze. I stared at my reflection in the water. I looked at the wound on my cheek. I thought about what I had done.
I started crying, not for committing murder, but for all of the pain and torture that went through all of my life.

I fell into the water, I didn't move. Nothing.
It's all over now.

The little yellow bird flew by that stream everyday for the rest of its life until it passed away.

This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:
2014-05-26 23:47:01