The Brokens

The moonlight shone between the branches, a gentle breeze caused the leaves to dance beautifully. Fallen leaves and twigs crunched under our feet as we ran through the woods. Our giggles echoed through the seemingly endless ocean of trees. He held my hand as he lead me through the calm and peaceful forest, until we finally came across a small little clearing. It seemed to satisfy him, because as soon as we reached it, he turned around and gently pressed his lips against mine. I leaned against the closest tree and wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling him pull me closer as he snaked his arms around my waist. It was perfect, he was perfect, he was the one. We continued kissing for awhile, until all of a sudden we heard a branch break not too far away. He told me it was just an animal, but I was stilled scared...I thought it was my dad. He saw the fear on my face, even though I tried hiding it, and pecked my lips one last time before telling me that he will check it out, then followed the sound. I leaned against the tree, arms crossed against my chest, annoyed and worried.
I waited for what felt like hours, then all of a sudden a icy cold breeze came out of nowhere, and with the breeze came something I did not want to hear. The wind carried a scream, so loud and full of pain and fear, and so familiar, I knew it was him. I ran through the forest, calling out his name, constantly tripping over branches, roots and my own feet, and fearing what I would find. Then I found him, lying on the ground, groaning in pain from the knife sticking out of his stomach, surrounded by a dark red puddle of his own blood. I ran to him, tears streaming down my face, and knelt down next to the bloody body. His lips were moving, but I could not hear any sound. I leaned in closer until his lips brushed my ear as he spoke, and even then I was barely able to make out the words "Behind you." I turned around just in time to see an ax hurdling at my head, which I ducked to avoid and it hit him, chopped his throat off entirely, taking away the last little bit of life he had. I peered at the murderer, a very tall man, about six feet, skin as pale as a ghost, dreadlocks tangled with branches. He wore a pure white tee-shirt and pants, but the most disturbing part of him, was that his face was not his. His face was of a woman's, had to be older than him, sliced off of the body and stitched onto his own. The man began to step towards me and I took off, running as fast as I could. My vision was blurred from tears, my hands painted red from his blood. I tried screaming for help, but I was too terrified to shout. Axes hit the trees around me, and somehow I managed to dodge to every single one, almost as if he was not even trying to hit me. Suddenly, the axes stopped coming at me, but I did not stop, I wanted to get as far away as I could. Finally I could not run any longer, and I had to stop and catch my breath. I leaned against a tree, looking up at the sky, trying to find the Northern Star to follow, but I could not spot a single one. The sky was turning pink and the sun was beginning to rise. Then I heard a branch break, I looked down and saw a knife flying towards my heart. I let my feet give out below me, and dropped to the ground. The man who stood before me was not the same man with the axes. No, he was skinnier, yet just as pale. He wore a pure white suit, and just like the other one, he too had on a different face than his own: one of a very young boy. I crawled backwards to get away from him, only to crawl right into another pair of legs. I looked up and found a young girl, slightly older than me. Her dress was as white and pure as the other's clothes. Her long, golden waves of hair were tangled with leaves and stained with blood. Her face once belonged to a girl older than her. She raised a knife above me and slashed the air as she brought it down. I kicked her leg and knocked her down, allowing me to get up and dart in between two more. At last, I had finally come to the edge of the woods. I ran out into the middle of the soccer field, and finally found my voice, screaming as loud as I could. Nothing. I peered to the edge of the field, spotting a line of parked cars behind the apartment complex and an idea popped into my head as I heard them follow. I dashed to the cars, as fast as I could while knives and axes continued to be hurdled my way. I ducked behind the first car I reached as an ax hit the windshield, but it did not do anything. It did not set off the alarm, it did not shatter the window, it did not even crack it. I ran past every car, allowing the projectiles to hit the cars, but no damage was done to them, therefore no alarm went off, almost as if they were not even making contact. I rushed towards the houses, looking for help. I ran in between yards, switched from street to street trying to lose them. Two of them were following me, so I quickly turned a corner and hid under the first car I saw. I watched the two pairs of white shoes pass the car and waited until they turned the corner before I slowly started creeping out from under the car. Just when I was barely out from underneath, a sharp knife sliced right through the middle of my hand. The woman before me took another knife and started to slice the skin right off of my arm. She wanted to make me scream, to let the others know where I was, I knew it, but I resisted. Instead I punched her in the shin, ripped the knife out of my hand and shoved it right into her throat. She fell to the ground, and within seconds she was lying lifelessly. I stood up and stared at the body. Blood stained her white blouse, causing her hair to stick to her neck. All of a sudden her eyes opened and she snacthed the knife out of her throat and stood up. The blood dissipated, and was gone within seconds, as if I had never even stabbed her. Terrified, I kicked her in the stomach, knocking her to the ground, and sprinted off once again. When I felt that I was far enough away, I ran up to the closest house and started banging on the door as hard as I could. An old woman finally answered, yelling at me that it was five in the morning. I tried explaining to her that there were people after me, trying to kill me, and that they already killed my boyfriend, but she looked at me like I was crazy. I showed her the hand that the woman stabbed and she just got crankier, exclaiming that she did not see anything. I stared at my hand and realized that she was right, nothing was there. Without warning the woman started coughing blood onto me and collapsed to the floor. Behind her stood another one, with a bloody ax in her hands. She raised the weapon and cut through the air. I barely had enough time to slam the wooden door closed, but the blade of the ax stuck through the door and actually cut my nose. My feet almost slipped out from underneath me as I began to run down the steps and away. Turning corner after corner, rounding house after house, dodging knife after knife, ax after ax, I somehow escaped each time, I escaped death. I dashed through a yard and onto a road, when suddenly I heard a horn blaring. I glanced to my right just in time to see a giant chunk of black metal hurtling towards me. My leg bones shattered as the bumper crashed into them and sent me rolling onto the hood. Part of the windshield shattered as my head bashed against it. I looked up at the rising sun, and felt my blood trickle around me, mixing with my sweat and the glass. Slowly the light faded out, and the feeling of the liquid numbed. I let out a slight, weak chuckle at the irony right before all went black.
My eyes slowly fluttered open, and the bright light shone into my eyes. Slowly, I sat up and looked around; I was still in the street, but suddenly my shirt was white, along with my pants. Also, the car that had hit me was gone. There was not a soul in sight. No people, no dogs barking, not even a cricket chirping. I pulled myself up onto my feet and started walking. I did not know where, I did not know why, but I just started walking. I made my way past the apartments, through the field, and into the woods. Soon enough, I came across the body, his body, the ax still lodged in his throat. His face was pale and he was soaked in his own blood. I pulled the ax out of his corpse, causing even more blood to squirt out. Carefully, I used the ax to slice the skin of his face off, and more blood poured out. The sharp edge of the ax kept getting stuck in his skull. The muscles in his face ripped apart, some stayed attached to the bone and some stuck to the skin. Next I found a petite stick and a edged rock. Scraping the stick with the rock I was able to make it pointed, then used the tip of the rock to poke a hole through the tip of the twig. Then, I ripped his shirt, exposing the threads, and I grabbed one of the long blue strings. Stitch by stitch, I sewed his face onto my own, so that we will always be together...so that we will always be one.
Some believe that when one dies, he either travels to heaven or hell, and must wait in purgatory. Others believe that some spend their entire afterlife in purgatory, cursed, they were not good enough to go to heaven, but they were not evil enough to be punished in hell. The truth is, that there is an afterlife, there is a heaven, a hell, and a purgatory, but purgatory is not what many believe it is. It is an awful place, worse than hell. In hell we get tortured by other demons, other souls, and even Satan himself, but in purgatory, you still get torture, but it is no soul or evil being who tortures us, it is ourselves. We torture ourselves because we have lost who we love. We wander about the woods, searching for an impure soul and send them to hell, only so that someone they love can join us in our curse. We are all stuck in this curse, in love with someone stuck in hell. Therefore, we are all broken. We are all The Brokens.