I was sinking faster and faster into the memories, which strived to hold me down. I imprisoned myself with these torturous thoughts...and I couldn't let go of them. I knew that I had to forget about them...to push them out of my mind, but I couldn't let go. I couldn't. I tried and tried day after day, but they still remained. I couldn't escape the past...I had killed her. I was the one that did it. No one knew that I had pushed her down the stairs...except for Jennifer. She knew. I had almost stopped her forever, until my mother walked in. Sure, I had rendered her unconscious and she was in my basement now, but she would come to soon. I had to decide what I was going to do with her. If I let her live, she would be sure to tell the cops that it was me who killed my sister...that it wasn't an "accident." She would tell them that I also tried to kill her, and I would be behind bars forever. I couldn't let that happen. I had to do something...
So I sat there and played on the computer...hiding from my mother and the rest of my family. Thank god my house was a large one...so that no one could hear the screams coming from the basement. I just sat there and let the thoughts run through my head.
I awoke to find myself on a hard brick floor, with one barred window. I had bruises all over my body, and it was a real struggle to get up. I peered at the window to see if there was a way that I could get out of it...but it was no use. It wasn't big enough even for a cat to fit through. I looked down at my tattered and torn clothes...and brushed the dirt off of them. I didn't know what to do or where to go...I knew that I was locked in here. I was determined not to die down here and I was going to do all that I could to get out. If I was going to die, I was going to die trying.
I walked up the stairs to the door. I tried the knob, and just as I thought, it was locked.
I sat on the stairs and sighed in despair. What was I going to do? I knew he was upstairs plotting to kill me, I KNEW he was going to dispose of me...it was too dangerous for him not to. I knew too much.
Just as I was thinking of the ways he could torture me, I saw the floor open. A little trap door appeared from out of the floor and a head poked up from it. A tiny girl, who had to be at least 10 years old looked at me with bright eyes.
"Are you trapped like me?"
She asked and looked at me in question.
I was a little taken back, but I replied.
"Yes, I guess I am."
Then, I realized, I was talking to John's sister he murdered just a few days ago that I happened to witness.
"Well, follow me if you ever want to leave this house."
She said and then disappeared underneath the floor. I followed her. It was dark and brackish, but the tunnel led out of the house and into the cemetery behind it.
"Please, don't ever come back. John will be looking for you, and you don't want him to find you. Get as far away from here as you can. Take this."
She handed me a necklace and then disappeared. I placed the necklace in my pocket and starting running blindly through the woods. She was right, he would be looking for me.
I finally decided how I was going to kill her...I had taken the rope from the attic and the knife...she was going to pay...she was going to be silent forever...if I had anything to say about it. I opened the door and went into the basement...and looked around. She was no where to be found. I called her name out and looked around. She wasn't there. Where could she have gone? The window was still barred, she couldn't have gone out through that way...so where in the hell was she? My anger arose and I punched a hole in the wall.
I'm going to get that little bitch, I thought to myself, and she will be sorry.
Showing posts with label escape. Show all posts
Showing posts with label escape. Show all posts
Friday, January 18, 2013
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Dreams
Peacefully dreaming
Away from this dark portal
of reality
Sleep
A desperate escape
from unkind world
We know so well
Darkness takes me
I fall away
into a peaceful slumber.
Away from this dark portal
of reality
Sleep
A desperate escape
from unkind world
We know so well
Darkness takes me
I fall away
into a peaceful slumber.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Running
Running
panting
out of breath
trying to escape
from you
from it all--
Will I ever
get away?
Sadly, no
But I can keep trying
and I WILL escape--
one day.
Running Away from
one's end of sanity
Running away from the break of society
Running from the grasp of
you
Running before I fall in love
with you.
panting
out of breath
trying to escape
from you
from it all--
Will I ever
get away?
Sadly, no
But I can keep trying
and I WILL escape--
one day.
Running Away from
one's end of sanity
Running away from the break of society
Running from the grasp of
you
Running before I fall in love
with you.
Numbness
Hiding from the world -
Hiding form you.
Hiding from my thoughts
desperately trying to escape.
New thoughts converge in
My mind
About you
About what we used to be.
And I wonder
What went wrong?
With no answer
Or explanation.
Hateful words
Hurtful glances
Pierce my heart.
Hurt by your words
Stung by your actions
My mind goes numb
My mind,
Unable to think.
My heart,
Unable to speak.
For I cannot believe,
How you are treating me.
Hiding form you.
Hiding from my thoughts
desperately trying to escape.
New thoughts converge in
My mind
About you
About what we used to be.
And I wonder
What went wrong?
With no answer
Or explanation.
Hateful words
Hurtful glances
Pierce my heart.
Hurt by your words
Stung by your actions
My mind goes numb
My mind,
Unable to think.
My heart,
Unable to speak.
For I cannot believe,
How you are treating me.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
The Nightmare on Elm St. - Rewritten
This dream played as a movie in my head. I was watching a movie, not active in the dream.
Freddy got a bad reputation. He loved his wife, that's all he was guilty of. He would kill for her. He would die for her. She was everything to him and he loved her.
His wife was a ruthless, cold, calculating woman. She was short in stature with a reddish brown bob and petite. She was curvy, but not fat. She always wore business suits with short skirts. Her appearance was always pristine. She was never less than perfect. Kruger had fallen for her looks, her poise, and her grace but he should have paid more attention to her flaws.
She was currently buttoning up her clothes. The plumber, the Mason's boy from down the street, was currently zipping up his pants. He wasn't so bad in the sack but he was dumb as a bag of rocks. This guy would do anything she told him, all for another chance to sleep with her. She cooed in his ear and slid her arms up around his neck and whispered into his ear. He was going to get rid of one of her problems.
They owned a three bedroom house in the suburbs. They also had a teenage daughter, Leslie. She lived in the top right bedroom of the house. Peter, the newborn baby boy the couple just had, lived in the bottom left bedroom. The couple, lived in the top center bedroom. Kruger pulled up to the house in his black F150, excited about seeing his newborn son. He had always wanted a baby boy. He took two steps before a giant blast knocked him back on his feet. He was knocked behind his truck. When he got to his feet, he saw that the room where his newborn son had been, was a giant, black, burnt hole in the side of the house. His son was dead. He started screaming and tears rolled down his cheeks. He tried to run to the side of the house but locals held him back. No one saw the Mason's boy driving away from the scene.
Leslie knew what her mother did. She knew her mother was responsible for Peter's death. Her father refused to believe it or see the signs. But, it was obvious. To make her point, she hid her father in her closet. He protested at first and then agreed. He knew his wife wouldn't, couldn't conceive of something so horrible. So, to please and quiet his daughter, he hid. His wife came into the room and saw Leslie. She smiled, a cold and calculating smile. She looked around and then spoke.
"Too bad that he didn't kill you as well. It's amazing how far men will go to get off. One day you'll learn how to do that, if you don't ... let's say," as she tapped a nail against her cheek, "have an accident first. Your father will. I've grown tired of him and he's just not as useful to me as he once was. That's why I kept him around for so long."
Kruger gaped in shock from the closet.
"I thought you loved father."
Leslie whispered, slowly. Her mother just laughed.
"Loved? NEVER! I never loved him! I just used him! Thank you, Leslie, I needed a good laugh today."
Kruger balled his fists.
Leslie's father had been useful to her mother because he used to kill for her mother. Her mother was a cannibal. She was too perfect to kill for herself - too much blood. So, she slept with Kruger and manipulated him into killing for her. He would bring the bodies to her and she would feed. Leslie would take the victim's clothes, which were stripped from their bodies before her mother ate, and wear them. Leslie liked the scent of the blood, but would never eat human flesh.
Her father burst through the closet door and hit her mother. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth and she laughed as she wiped it away.
"Did you really think that I ever loved you? I didn't want kids, I only had these mistakes to keep you happy so that you would keep bringing me food. You're NOTHING! NOTHING TO ME! DO YOU HEAR ME, KRUGER?!? NOTHING!"
Kruger, at that moment, punched her so hard that the mother landed across the room and cracked her head open on the edge of the steel corner of the bed. She lay silent on the floor.
Then, the police came in. Leslie and Kruger could hear them from the top floor.
Kruger turned to Leslie.
"They'll never believe me that I had nothing to do with all of this. It's up to you to get out of here and clear my name."
He said as he showed Leslie a way out. He opened the window and gave her the way out. Leslie kissed her father on the cheek and jumped out of the window, landing on the trampoline. She ran, as fast as her feet would take her, away from her childhood home.
As soon as Leslie felt she was a safe distance away, she stopped and turned to watch her dad. She almost screamed. Her childhood home was now on fire and she saw the police retreat, but never saw her father. She watched as her father and mother burned alive inside of the house she was just in. She was the lone survivor of her family. It was all taken away from her in a day. Just a day. She turned her tear stained face away. She had to keep moving. She couldn't let anyone know who she was or what she was doing. So, she ran again.
She saw her father in her dreams. He was always there.
A few weeks later, Leslie got a job at a camp as a counselor. She was going to some place called Crystal Lake. This place would help her cope with what happened. She would need to forget who she was and become someone else. She looked up as a male counselor across the room smiled at her. After what she'd been through, Leslie was ready for anything.
She smiled back.
Freddy got a bad reputation. He loved his wife, that's all he was guilty of. He would kill for her. He would die for her. She was everything to him and he loved her.
His wife was a ruthless, cold, calculating woman. She was short in stature with a reddish brown bob and petite. She was curvy, but not fat. She always wore business suits with short skirts. Her appearance was always pristine. She was never less than perfect. Kruger had fallen for her looks, her poise, and her grace but he should have paid more attention to her flaws.
She was currently buttoning up her clothes. The plumber, the Mason's boy from down the street, was currently zipping up his pants. He wasn't so bad in the sack but he was dumb as a bag of rocks. This guy would do anything she told him, all for another chance to sleep with her. She cooed in his ear and slid her arms up around his neck and whispered into his ear. He was going to get rid of one of her problems.
They owned a three bedroom house in the suburbs. They also had a teenage daughter, Leslie. She lived in the top right bedroom of the house. Peter, the newborn baby boy the couple just had, lived in the bottom left bedroom. The couple, lived in the top center bedroom. Kruger pulled up to the house in his black F150, excited about seeing his newborn son. He had always wanted a baby boy. He took two steps before a giant blast knocked him back on his feet. He was knocked behind his truck. When he got to his feet, he saw that the room where his newborn son had been, was a giant, black, burnt hole in the side of the house. His son was dead. He started screaming and tears rolled down his cheeks. He tried to run to the side of the house but locals held him back. No one saw the Mason's boy driving away from the scene.
Leslie knew what her mother did. She knew her mother was responsible for Peter's death. Her father refused to believe it or see the signs. But, it was obvious. To make her point, she hid her father in her closet. He protested at first and then agreed. He knew his wife wouldn't, couldn't conceive of something so horrible. So, to please and quiet his daughter, he hid. His wife came into the room and saw Leslie. She smiled, a cold and calculating smile. She looked around and then spoke.
"Too bad that he didn't kill you as well. It's amazing how far men will go to get off. One day you'll learn how to do that, if you don't ... let's say," as she tapped a nail against her cheek, "have an accident first. Your father will. I've grown tired of him and he's just not as useful to me as he once was. That's why I kept him around for so long."
Kruger gaped in shock from the closet.
"I thought you loved father."
Leslie whispered, slowly. Her mother just laughed.
"Loved? NEVER! I never loved him! I just used him! Thank you, Leslie, I needed a good laugh today."
Kruger balled his fists.
Leslie's father had been useful to her mother because he used to kill for her mother. Her mother was a cannibal. She was too perfect to kill for herself - too much blood. So, she slept with Kruger and manipulated him into killing for her. He would bring the bodies to her and she would feed. Leslie would take the victim's clothes, which were stripped from their bodies before her mother ate, and wear them. Leslie liked the scent of the blood, but would never eat human flesh.
Her father burst through the closet door and hit her mother. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth and she laughed as she wiped it away.
"Did you really think that I ever loved you? I didn't want kids, I only had these mistakes to keep you happy so that you would keep bringing me food. You're NOTHING! NOTHING TO ME! DO YOU HEAR ME, KRUGER?!? NOTHING!"
Kruger, at that moment, punched her so hard that the mother landed across the room and cracked her head open on the edge of the steel corner of the bed. She lay silent on the floor.
Then, the police came in. Leslie and Kruger could hear them from the top floor.
Kruger turned to Leslie.
"They'll never believe me that I had nothing to do with all of this. It's up to you to get out of here and clear my name."
He said as he showed Leslie a way out. He opened the window and gave her the way out. Leslie kissed her father on the cheek and jumped out of the window, landing on the trampoline. She ran, as fast as her feet would take her, away from her childhood home.
As soon as Leslie felt she was a safe distance away, she stopped and turned to watch her dad. She almost screamed. Her childhood home was now on fire and she saw the police retreat, but never saw her father. She watched as her father and mother burned alive inside of the house she was just in. She was the lone survivor of her family. It was all taken away from her in a day. Just a day. She turned her tear stained face away. She had to keep moving. She couldn't let anyone know who she was or what she was doing. So, she ran again.
She saw her father in her dreams. He was always there.
A few weeks later, Leslie got a job at a camp as a counselor. She was going to some place called Crystal Lake. This place would help her cope with what happened. She would need to forget who she was and become someone else. She looked up as a male counselor across the room smiled at her. After what she'd been through, Leslie was ready for anything.
She smiled back.
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