Whipe Off That Makeup, What's In Is Despair

Work in progress, incomplete.

ONE:

Simple moments change your life.
This statement rings true for me, on so many levels.At any given moment we have a choice. Do I want water or juice with lunch? Do I get the train home or catch a cab? The blue or black dress? Left or right?
They all make a difference, they all add up. Choices and moments, they can make and break your life. Every little thing adds up and brings you to where you are today; every little thing has added up and brought me to where I am today.
Here I am, sitting at my desk, working hard and nursing the headache from hell. I knew I had the headache because I was working too hard, because I was having trouble sleeping. I should have taken the day off, I should be resting, but here I am sitting at my desk, sick as a dog.
I couldn’t take it anymore, the pounding in my head, the bright computer screen, I needed to go home.
I packed up my things quickly, patching a quick call through to my boss explaining why I was leaving. The moment I hung up I thought about ringing my boyfriend to tell him I’d be home early, but I thought the better of it. He was probably working and wouldn’t want to be disturbed.
I jumped into the nearest cab, wanting to get home as quick as possible. I hated days like this, days when everything became too much to bear.
I couldn’t wait to get home.
I dragged myself from the cab to the stairs of my apartment, scrambling through my bag for my keys. It was bright and sunny, making me feel like an idiot for forgetting my sunglasses. After five minutes of searching I finally found my keys, dropping them once before finally getting the door open.
In triumph I dropped my bag at the door, kicking it shut with my feet.
“Daniel it’s me” I called out into the apartment. “Daniel?” I called again when no answer came. It was rare that he wasn’t home, he was a writer. He barely left the house unless he needed to when he was writing, and now was one of those times.
“Dan?” I asked, pulling my off the jacket to my work suit and walking towards the bedroom. “Daniel?”
I pulled open the door to the bedroom; it felt weird that Daniel wasn’t home.
As small startled scream escaped my mouth as I was hit with the scene in front of me. “Oh my God” I breathed.
“Becca!” came a startled response from Daniel. “This isn’t what it looks like...” he trailed off. We both knew he was lying.
In front of me was something that I would never have to witness. In front of me was my boyfriend of three years and my best friend, naked and in my bed. There was nothing that needed to be explained to me, there was nothing that was unclear.
At that moment questions were running through my pounding head, anger was building up, hurt was bubbling over, I didn’t know what to do. Clutching my jacket tightly in my hands I ran, ran through the now unlocked door and down the steps I had stumbled up earlier.
“Becca wait!” I heard him shout, but I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t need to hear it, I needed to get away. Clutching my things to my chest I ran down the street, not caring where I was going or where I ended up.
How could he do this to me? How? After everything we had done together, after all the time we’d been together. I was beyond hurt; tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I spent hours just walking the streets, heels in hand, makeup running down my face as the tears continued to run. I couldn’t, no I wouldn’t go home, but I didn’t know where else to go. Everyone I knew was somehow connected to Daniel, everyone that I could go see would remind me of Daniel. We had been together for so long; our worlds had merged into one.
I didn’t know exactly how long I had been walking around for, but I knew it was starting to get late. The sun was on its way down and it was starting to get cold. I looked around for a cab, searching the empty streets.
I was reaching through my bag for my phone when everything went black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Stupidly she fought against the restraints that bound her, it was instinct, he knew, but that didn’t make it any less amusing. In the corner he sat, he waited. When she finally gave up he would show himself. He’d been watching her for years, what were a few more hours?
Everything had gone according to plan, her stupid boyfriend had done exactly what he thought he would, and she had reacted the way he expected. Now she was his, all his, and there was no one who could get in his way.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I was tied up to what seemed to be a bed, I didn’t know if it was rope or leather around my wrists and ankles, but whatever it was it was doing its job. I couldn’t move.
Despite the fact that I knew struggling was useless, I kept trying to break free, wishing that my binds would just break.
I didn’t know where I was, or who had taken me, but I did know that wherever I was, I didn’t feel safe.
The room around me was dark, and the bed was hard. There was no other furniture, no couches, no chairs, no other shapes I could make out. I couldn’t even tell if there was a window, I couldn’t really see far enough to make out the walls.
“You should stop struggling, it really is worthless” said a voice from the darkness. I didn’t know exactly where it had come from, but it sounded amused.
“Who are you?” I asked tentatively, my voice hoarse in the dark room.
“Does it matter?” laughed the voice.
“It matters to me” I replied softly. I could feel the welling of tears in my eyes, I bit down on my bottom lip in defiance, I wasn’t going to cry. I would not let myself cry.
“Why?” they laughed. “So you know what name to scream?”
“Scream?” the question escaped my lips before I had time to think. It was a stupid question; of course I would need to scream. I was with some sick and twisted person who wanted to torture me in every possible way.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked in a soft whisper. Wouldn’t it be better to be prepared? To know at least in advance what to expect?
“Ah sugar, that would be ruining the surprise now wouldn’t it?” came the amused reply. I had a feeling that I was in no way, shape or form going to enjoy this surprise.
“For now I think you can wait” they sneered. “Let the excitement build.”
I felt sick to my stomach. What was this sick bastard going to do to me? Better yet, why me?
I wasn’t someone special, I wasn’t someone of worth to kidnap and torture. They would get nothing out of it, no one would come looking for me, and no one would pay a ransom for me. Daniel would give up hope after a few weeks, move on and forget me. I’m sure he’d settle back into his life with ‘the other woman’ just fine.
My heart sank. How could I not have known? How could I have been so stupid?
This person had me for as long as they wanted me and no one would care. My family had cut me off; they had gone so far as to disown me. The only person who I thought cared for me was cheating on me, I was worthless.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He smiled as he walked out the door, locking her into the room. Everything had gone according to plan, but he still had one thing to deal with; her stupid boyfriend. He had so much as crushed her, and that did not sit well with him. Her boyfriend had taken her for granted and now he had to pay, he had to know exactly what he had lost.
“Watch my girl for me Bob” he muttered as he started for the door.
“Gee what is all this about?” asked Bob from the couch in the corner. “Why is she here? What exactly are you up to?”
“Nothing” shrugged the other man. “Just watch her Bob, and stop asking questions.” Bob rolled his eyes and shrugged.
“Fine” muttered Bob from the couch, he knew the girl couldn’t escape even if she was a genius. Gerard wouldn’t have been that sloppy, the man was like a machine, exact, perfect, calculated, reserved and he had never made a mistake. Not once, in all the time that Bob had known him he had never once made a mistake.
“I’ll be back soon” said Gerard before walking out the door. Bob sighed as the door slammed shut, in all the time that he had known Gerard nothing had changed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I struggled against the restraints that bound me. This couldn’t be happening, this couldn’t. It had to be some sort of nightmare. This was not real.
I would wake up tomorrow and everything would be fine. I’d wake up in my own bed, my headache would be gone and Daniel would be there, lying next to me. Everything would be fine, life would go back to normal and this nightmare would be nothing but a distant memory.
This was a dream; this whole thing was a dream. I just needed to wake up.
I heard the door creak open and then shut softly, the small moment of light hurting my sensitive eyes.
“Honey I’m home” the voice from before was back. This time he sounded happier, almost as if he was a child who had just gotten exactly what he wanted for Christmas. I didn’t reply, I didn’t say anything. Just because this was all a dream, it didn’t mean I had to fight fair.

not exactly finished, and completely untitled, but rather personal

You sit by yourself, back against the wall, wondering how it came to this. What stupid little thing made it all come to this? How did it get so bad?You were a happy child, always smiling, always laughing, but what everyone didn’t know was that it was all a cover. Every day was spent trying to make sure that everyone didn’t notice the dark monster eating you alive slowly.
It doesn’t matter anyway, because it has all lead you to this moment anyway. This deep dark moment, you’re sitting alone, pressed against the cold wall. Tears stream down your face, like they are trying desperately to get back to the earth, to get away from you.
Isolation is a one way street. The cold hard fact is that you put yourself here, you isolated yourself from everyone. But they wouldn’t understand would they? They don’t get it do they?
There is no comfort in this, sitting alone, crying to yourself again. It’s pathetic, you’re pathetic and you know it.
Insecurities plague you like the flies in the summer; it’s hard to see a life where you’re not fighting to reach that pedestal that is always out of your grasp.
Your arms grasp your legs, pulling them against your heaving chest. Tears continue to run down your cheeks as you sob, like a child, desperately hoping for everything to just go away.
If it would leave you, if you could live without it, wouldn’t life be so much better? Wouldn’t you be able to live so much easier?
Right now everything is a struggle, a fight on a daily basis. Some days it is so bad you can’t even get yourself out of bed, other days you can’t eat, and then there are the days where you are so detached from everything it’s like you were never there anyway. It’s gotten to the point where you can’t see yourself living like this anymore; it’s just too much to take. Nobody wants to have to give themselves some stupid fake pep talk before they do simple every day things; nobody wants to be so unmotivated they can’t stand in the shower. It’s not living.
It begs the question; would everything be better if it was gone? Would it be better if you didn’t have to do it anymore? Surely the world would be a better place without you, there is no one who would miss you right?
Here you are, dejected, isolated and alone, crying to yourself, tears of pain that no one knows about, that no one will hear. Here you sit, gasping for air as your lungs and throat burn from crying, in the dark thinking of nothing but dying.
There are so many different ways you could do it, so many options. You could go for your wrists, you could drown yourself in the bathtub, you could jump in front of a train, take all your medication, it’s scary to think that all these things are running through your head.
Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. You weren’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to get easier, you weren’t supposed to be another statistic, and you weren’t supposed to be someone who died so young. Yet here you are.
You never thought that you’d be the person who was the suicide risk; you never thought you’d be the person so desperate, so depressed that the only solution you could see was ending your own life. How pathetic is that?
You can imagine it all now; everyone apologetically dressed in black, standing around remembering what you used to be before all this. They’ll remember when you were young, when you were carefree. They probably wouldn’t know that most of it seems like it was a lie. Time will pass, and eventually they’ll forget.
So everything has come down to this moment, this one lonely dark moment. Is this the time when you call it quits? Is then when you walk away and say I tried? Is this the end of the story?
You’re so tired, sick of fighting everything, sick of not being able to sleep, sick of not being able to get away from your own thoughts, sick of feeling so useless, so stupid, so alone, so sad, so helpless, it’s not the life you wanted. It’s not a life at all.
But giving up now would be too easy; giving up now would mean that all the months of hard work would have gone to waste. It would mean that opening up to a complete stranger and spilling every little minute detail of your life in 45 minute blocks would be pointless.
It’s just hard to see anything getting better; it’s hard to think about life without feeling this way. Everything just feels hopeless and there is no getting away from it. It is a sinking feeling, deep in the pit of your stomach, taking you over slowly. It’s a brick weighing down on your chest and there is no escape.
Family creeps into your head, their smiling faces, childhood memories, everything that would make what you want to do hard. Suddenly it all doesn’t seem so easy to end. Suddenly you have people who would miss you, people who would be disappointed by you, people who you will be letting down.
You continue to hug your legs, your tears have stopped and your eyes are drying. Tiredness is overcoming you, but still you sit there. Still you feel helpless; still you want it to end.
You sit there and let the time tick by, the time that you can never get back, but the time you don’t want to have. Slowly you fall asleep and your darkest moment fades away, you’re most vulnerable moment ends, you got through it. But it’s a battle every day, because your biggest fear is that one day this moment will come back, and maybe one day you won’t be able to turn it down.

Innocence

Note: This is a really old short/small story I wrote for an English assignment, it is completely fictional and was written a fair while ago. I haven't rewritten it or edited since it was written. I don't deny that things like this most definately do take place, but this is a fictional story.

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Innocence

Quietly she crept, weaving with care. Making no noise, she stopped and lent against the cold concrete surface of the wall. Pressing her back hard against the smooth surface, she listened. She awaited the sounds of their chaos. Tentatively she peered around the corner, searching for safety in her black blanket of darkness. The darkness engulfed her as she slowly crept forward searching for safety, for her next hiding place. Moving faster she weaved her way toward the dark desolate forest. Searching.
Panic overcame her, when the first gunshots emerged from the silence. They were here. She began to shake, and the putrid scent of fear filled the air around her. In silence she stumbled forward, searching for a new hiding place. Frantically she pulled herself behind a small bush. Her sharp breaths piercing the silence around her. Cautiously she glimpsed through the branches, and peered in the direction that was once her home. Amber glowed in the night sky, and the strong pungent smell of smoke and burnt flesh hit her. It repulsed her, and silently into the night she vomited. She knew she needed to move, to continue on, staying in one place would inevitably end in death. There was no need for her to lie to herself, she knew what would happen if she was caught. No one ever escaped their terror.
Moving quickly through the forest she listened, but the sounds of terror still lingered around her, reminding her of them. Her destination was days away from where she was. It would be a hard journey without food or proper rest, but she needed to get there. She had to get there. Safety waited for her there, the gift of life waited there. They would be unable to reach her, once there she would become untouchable. She kept going until she was unable to continue, until her frail body refused to push on, to be pushed by her any further. Rest was what she needed, and silently she curled her body into a small ball, pushing herself into the smallest gap between harsh, rough rocks. In minutes she was asleep and restlessly dreaming, re-living the screams that haunted her. Her mind creating images that went with the screams, her family in front of her eyes, suffering, dying.
She awoke with a start, she had heard a noise, it sounded very close. She pushed her back harder against the rocks, feeling their coarse edges digging into her soft flesh, she did not move. You could not hear her pain, nor could you see it. She sat there silently with her eyes tightly shut, and she could feel the warm liquid softly trickle down her smooth back. Moments passed, nothing happened, so she took a chance and quickly began moving again. Weaving her way throughout the forest, hiding in the shadows.
Her father was a diplomat. Her country’s new government didn’t like diplomats, they refused to acknowledge their status. He was party of an unwanted and ever shrinking minority, which the new government had slowly begun exterminating. Removing each person from society, leaving no trace of his or her existence. Each day a new family was gone, missing. No one questioned their authority, to question would be to sign your own death certificate. They would hunt her down, they would kill her just as they had her family. She was unaware of the sun slowly rising, she didn’t notice the light creeping into the forest or the shadows retreating back into the depths of the forest.
He noticed the light creeping into the forest, and like he was trained, he swiftly removed the night vision goggles from his head and watched her as she fumbled on. She wouldn’t last much longer, he knew. He had followed her tracks, and was now waiting for the opportunity to strike her down. For what seemed like hours he stalked her through the forest, she was unaware of his existence.
Now the sun was glaring down on her as she approached the raging river. The water moved swiftly and roughly. She looked into the river and heard his soft footsteps crush the earth behind her. She closed her eyes and looked up to heaven, and she offered a small prayer to her God, before slowly turning to face her awaiting fate. She looked into his eyes searching for a glimmer of hope, but his face offered her nothing. His eyes were harsh circles that had been filled with years of innocent death. The spilt blood lined them with sorrow and hatred. He emulated the image of evil.
He looked at her fragile frame, she was just a child, but he had a duty to his new leader, his country. She had fought well, he knew, but he would win, he always won. People like her always lost in the end.
She knew her fate as he slowly raised his gun, still she stared innocently at his unforgiving face. He waited for a moment and again searched her eyes. He felt nothing, no regret or pity, and heartlessly he fired the gun.
The bullet penetrated her skin, it was hot and hard. The impact pushed her backwards and pain seared through her body, but no sound left her mouth. Slowly she fell, as if God had put her small fragile body in slow motion. He watched her fall, and before she had even hit the ground he had vanished. Her head hit the ground hard, the ringing in her ears slowly dying away, until she was unable to hear anything. She closed her eyes and allowed time to pass, until finally the last breath left her body, and her small frame looked peaceful. When she opened her eyes in a distant place she saw the most beautiful sight before her, and she smiled. The small innocent smile of a child.