Behind the Door

Broken Determination

The rustling sound grips me in a frozen vice. And in a split second I decide to move, to live; a decision that somehow frees my legs to begin walking away from the clearing.

As I look behind me, stupidly for a glance, a twisted peak of interest toward what is following me.

...

As she catches their yellow eyes, three wolves stare back; Giving her the look that she was so used to seeing, that was present in her parents’ faces for the majority of her life, one of hate and something more primitive and predatory, she realizes one thing; the things looking at her weren’t there to tear her down they were also going to try to tear her apart, leave nothing of her behind.

With terror pumping blood and adrenaline through her veins she continues to move, even as she can hear the steps following behind her. She couldn’t bear to look behind as both her and their steps quickened, refusing to again see what would eventually be her end. Also convincing her inner self that if she looked it would mean she was giving up. She couldn’t give up, she hadn’t for her parents when they beat her and she wouldn’t for something that didn’t know her. She began to run, seeking refuge and a place to hide; part of her hoping she’d reach the road, but it wasn’t coming. Not even after what felt like an hour of nonstop running, nonstop avoiding of what was after her. After what seemed like forever she became tired, but still hearing them behind her she began crying, fear and frustration mixing into grief as she realizes she is back in the clearing, slowing her speed and her will to carry on. Realizing they had been merely playing with her, entertaining the idea that she could survive.

I pick up speed, running as fast as I can but like a cruel act of fate sees my foot catch clumsily under a vine, throwing me forward. In what seemed like a second my whole body was catapulting through the air, toppling over. I tense automatically expecting a painful landing, a reaction that leaves me strewn across the floor with harsh throbbing gouges into my palms, elbows and knees. I moan along with the protests of my body, blood pooling and skin grated, feeling the uncomfortable ache beginning to climb over through my skin.

...

As quickly as she can, she manages to push herself onto her back in an effort to grasp her breath back into her lungs, winded by the small stump that has created the reddish purple bruise forming on her sternum. Hope blooms in her stomach telling her that she will have time to get back up and running before they overwhelm her. But she wheezes only once before they pounce, as a unit, covering her body with their mouths. Each furred mass taking a section for themselves. She squeezes shut her eyes and begins screaming for her life.

Hours could have passed while trapped in this pain filled haze, though it could have been minutes or days, for the agony is endless and nothing as unimportant as time could help her. She wants to give up. There is just too much pain. Not even the strongest person could last this long, “why should I have to?” she begs out loud; or in her head she can’t tell. She feels tears falling but they are lost within the rest of the wet solution she is too terrified to accept is her blood. Had she angered someone? Asked for it? She cries until her eyes sting and she feels like a desert, arid and empty. Feeling so lost, so miserable and in so much pain. The tearing, teething and muzzling of her clothes, flesh and whatever they had ripped into after that make her feel less present, less motivated to keep screaming. Beginning to think no one would come for her; she was going die here, today or tonight whatever time it was. The feeling of loss is washing over her at the same time as her pain reverberates through her body and warmth flows over her skin as her blood and her life ebbs away.

As her consciousness slips in and out she notices a difference, an orange and red glow through her eyelids lets her know that the day is changing to night, or worse night to day. With this transformation she thinks back to why she has found herself here...

The previous days occurrences that lead to her hasty escape, which seem so fuzzy and distant she could have been lying on that cold hard ground for weeks. Her parents were awful, one a closet d**g addict who wasn’t fooling any one, and the other was a power hungry bully – funny thing was, her mother was the latter, the one most associated with males. Her father had been driven to narcotics after taking the force of her anger for over twelve years. Then it was her turn, one day she didn’t put the bed cover over and her mother lost it. She remembers her lip bursting open with the pressure as cheek to chin connected with solid oak sideboard. Thinking of this she realizes that they can never hurt her again, she is untouchable to them. On tear trickles a skin path down her blood stained cheek, ‘a weird time to feel relief’ she thinks to herself. Then she realizes that her body can’t respond, it must have finally settled into a state of shock, into complete stasis, as it concentrates only on sending wave after wave of pain up into her brain.

It is a pain that seems to be ebbing away now. Finally it was giving in, her body was giving in even though the creatures weren’t, they were ferocious and starved, and they were unrelenting. Her body had given up, quitting the fight such a long time after her consciousness had, allowing for a strange numbness to set in. And as it comes to the end she thinks ‘Thank god’, with this thought her body appears to relax, allowing for her mouth to create a wistful and pain filled sigh out loud. The only noise she has made since she gave up begging and screaming.

Trying to open her eyes for one last glance she realizes that death hasn’t come for her yet, that there is no tugging or pulling, ripping or gnawing. Her attackers have had their fill and have gone, ‘or have they been chased off?’ she allows herself this weird spark of hope and tries to find the face of her imagined savior. As she turns her head toward two bright green eyes she begins to fade away, edges of her fixed vision blurring, turning into blackness, into nothing...