Subtle Inquiries

[Guest]

Breathe in and out. Inhale, exhale. Breathing was so natural but at the moment came in such unsteady bursts surrounded by sobbing. Despair locked her lungs away and kept her from experiencing the calming effects of fresh air in her lungs. She was choking on tears; the lump in her throat and the way her breath seemed stuck. Was she sick? No.. it was the anxiety. Pain crept over her heart and only there in a way that had made it impossible to even see straight or maybe, it was her tears clouding her eyes. She was so unsure of... everything. Life was a hell she lived in daily. Despite the fact she could legally move out on her own, a hidden contract kept her there with THEM. She didn't want to live up to them, the expectations and the constant 'arranged meetings' of her and every other rich man they could dig up out of folders. The festive dances and parties, cultured wines. She couldn't breathe. This was not a world in which Deity wanted to live in and yet she knew she had to. Sadly the only person she was living for.. was her twin sister who ironically hated her. Deity couldn't blame Amity for that, it was her own fault most likely.

Loneliness. She had been standing in the large Atrium surrounded by people and yet not a word was spoken to her. She was invisible; a specter in such beautiful merriment, again the caged bird tried to sing but the words were silenced. What was the point anyways? Even if they had noticed, what would she have said? Words were so- fake, falsified and churned to manipulate another person. Yes, life was a game of web weaving each sentence forming a thread to pull or trap a person. Fight and flight was a misconception to avoid the truth. More lies rambled in her head for her a world in a different light. While she stood in a shielded life no one around noticed. It was as if she was a natural repellant. It hurt so much.. that pain. Her hand clutched tight at her chest and she hiccuped, holding down her stomach. How much time had passed? Hours or minutes? She slumped over the sink and a hand reached for the water handle.

Drenching her face in the water only made her face wet, no other salvation coming. A sad stinging of tears killing the pain, numbing her for a second as she tried to rub it away. It wasn't working. The pain wouldn't be swallowed up like it was before. Satan raised his head and touched down her spine the wicked urge. She could resist, couldn't she? No... she couldn't. As much as she started to fight at first, the voice hit her in a haze. Her mind was its. Clawed and shrouded in a cloud of cruel intent. The demon that moved her body and let her feel her way to the drawer. The kitchen wide and fast but closed off. A meat cleaver a bit too much, she grabbed the Chef's knife. It was heavier than expected, but something else was needed.

Dainty fingers clutched a hold on the blade, shakily leaving it beside the silver metaled sink while she released it to go to the doors. Not that anyone would enter the kitchen anyways. After all, the party was in the Atrium where her brothers flattered ladies and the presence of her parents left her out of place. An heiress was only to look good and proper, like a princess and yet. Her acting had become flawless; perfect in the eyes of others, a lie to others. A bird wanted to fly, but the wings clipped left her alone in her cage to watch her world pass her by. Pain.. more pain. Cast cruel glances left her further lacking. Jealousy bred into hatred and left her as a simple being that embodied all that those envious could foster. The tales their tongues could tell. Maneuvering without actually hiding the facts. Smirks and intentional pushing, one such leaving Deity's dress a mass of purple spills. Not an apology but a smirk was given. All the hatred.

The door closed with a soft click, but no lock was needed. The kitchen was 'closed off' anyways. No moochers to seek their way into and steal the Silver's food. No sir, the frugal parents of hers would not let a single finger touch what was theirs. Greed.. engulfed the house and tempted to swallow her whole. A sin she wasn't willing to deal with. Her hand let go of the knob. Turning back, she peaked at the other entrance, knowing no one used it. She was alone. Her heart raced and she wondered for a moment if this was the right time-

"I heard she's such a slut."

Those voices in her head. She couldn't distinguish them real from fake.

"Hah, spends all her times on her knees."

"I heard her parents pay off the authorities all the time. You know, to keep her prostitution under the radar."

Slut, whore... she should be above those words. She was the better person.. she could. She steals money. She beats her father. Why wouldn't the tears stop. Words.. the game of words was a GAME! She wasn't a sore loser was she?

I heard she tried to KILL her pregnant sister. That's believable, she such a bitch. She's too good for anyone, so she keeps to herself. Giggles bit harder, mocking laughter, snide remarks. Why could she hear these voices? The memories were too painful. Her cheeks were already traveled by cascading tears, droplet after droplet. Make it stop. She whimpered to the voice. Aim deeper...

When she had reached the sink, she found her hand on the blade. A shaky grip, becoming stronger. For something that looked so pure and silver- It was almost ironic. Silver slicing silver and forming scarlet. Her hand move, sliding off the glove and unveiling the rivets of past memories. Each notch a different cause and no one knew.. no one would know.

With palm upwards, she revealed the fleshy pale of her wrist, a major vein showing in a river beneath her skin. Her fist clenched and dropped a bit in the sink; easier clean up. A shine of the blade almost blinded her as she let the sharpened steel do its work by her will. Deeper.. The voice spoke. This time don't pussy out. Only being near death made her understand what it meant to be alive. A small pearl of red formed at the sides of the blade before they fell,, making a pattern as Deity gasped in pain. Crying more as she pushed the blade, the dripping more into a trickle to a gentle flowing stream. Was that enough?

Small splatters reached the bottom of the sink. Silver and crimson mixed and made such a beautiful red. She wondered how something as her could invoke such magnificence. Though they said the most disgusting thing could form flowers the most beautiful. Maybe that was the cause here. One arm done, she took a heavy breath and tried to pull away, but tears made her weak. Her head leaned forward and rested on the tall faucet. So much crying and she still couldn't breathe. The hand was clutching at her throat and blackness faded in and out. The blade fell to the ground with a clatter and she stumbled a bit; light headed. Her head simply rolled on the cold metal faucet; a swan to her over heated body. More blood dripped, filling the basin with a new color and diving down the drain soon after. Her hand clutched at the counter for balance as she tried to calm herself, tried to breathe. She couldn't. Slowly the pain dulled and she could only feel the blood tracing her wrist. Was she even alive? She could barely feel.. still, not even the cold of the sink. Nothing..

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

[Aurelius Schwartz]

AHHHH WIP FOR ELA D: give me moar timmmeeee

[Shula Brighton]

{BUMP}

[Sponsored content]