Trigger warning: violence, sexual abuse, physical abuse, racism, substance abuse, and self-harm.
HE WAS UNHINGED; SHE WAS HIS ELIXIR. HE WAS ADDICTED; SHE WAS HIS DRUG. HE WAS WISTFUL; SHE WAS HIS FANTASY.
At seventeen, moving to a new place, to Qu...
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Nightmares, they cling onto you, reminding you of exactly that which you're trying to run away from. She knew what it felt like to always be afraid, cautious. She knew what it was like to always be in waiting, in anticipation of the looming danger. A single mistake is all it would take for her to become trapped again. Or perhaps, she never escaped in the first place...
-Maryam ~~
Darkness...
It existed everywhere around her, surrounding her like a heavy cloak. First came the intense fear of the unknown, corrupting her, then it was her senses coming in terms with the severity of the situation she was stuck in. Everywhere she moved her eyes, there was nothing but darkness. From that darkness emerged the familiar sounds, increasing in their intensity as moments carried on, it was the sound of ticking clocks. It pierced her ears from everywhere, like a time bomb ready to explode, beating viciously, much like her heart trapped inside her ribcage, waiting to jump out.
A putrid scent overtook her sense of smell as it clung to her nose whilst she thrashed against the bounds around her wrist. She realized she was fully, completely trapped amidst the murky blindness. With every ticking second, her nerves began to kill her from the inside. Whatever that smell was that slowly invaded her senses, it was rotten and it was bad. Really, really bad.
After what felt like forever a dim light invaded the abyss-like space she was trapped in, grabbing her attention to the window and the view of the moon that hung starkly in the onyx sky. Strangely, it further served to terrorize her, feeling perspiration seep through the pores of her skin as it stuck to her clothes while beads of sweats travelled down her forehead and back spreading all over her body. The tiny hairs at the back of her neck erected in the sense of the looming danger. Soon after, another light came to life, putting her in a spot-light. The lamp hung above her head, still as dead, sending enough light for her to evaluate her condition.
Her soul left her body as soon as her eyes fell upon her hands. The hissing of the snakes encircled around her wrists made her wither like a leaf whilst screams erupted from her throat at an unimaginable magnitude, until her throat became sore and she could not shout anymore. Instead, she began to hyperventilate as the snakes, stygian in their appearance, bound to each one of her wrists, slithered around her with their sleek tongues dancing before her eyes with menacing gazes
An ear-piercing noise cut through her as her head jerked sharply. The dim glow of the moon brought the unsettling figure, previously hidden, before her eyes. Hands encased in dark pair of gloves, they held a cleaver knife in one hand and a sharpening tool in another. Once. Twice. Thrice. The gloved hands sharpened their knife as her teeth clenched at the ear-splitting noise.
The action reminded her of a butcher sharpening his tools before piercing it into the neck of the sheep. She gulped.
"Who-Who is it?!" Her voice came out hoarse from the incessant shouting.
