take me (Chapter one)

chapter one: darkness

/'d?:kn?s/
the state or quality of reflecting little light
evilness, lack of understanding or compassion, reference to death and suffering.


The taste of blood lingers on my tongue, and whether or not that makes me sound crazy but I've grown a like to the metallic yet sweet flavour. I can see her pale lips moving, a deep frown on her face while she probably spits the most unspeakable insults at me, but no sound reaches my ears. Only a ringing and slight stung.
My mother always says that I can only grow strong when I've been broken. And she teaches that lesson quite intelligible. She says life is a concept of falling and flying. The higher you fly, the deeper you will fall and the more it will hurt. I know that she only uses that as an excuse to let all her anger and pain out of me. An excuse to break me the way she has been broken.

And I let her.

Her once ocean blue eyes now reflect nothing but anger and darkness. Pure utter darkness. The kind of darkness that creeps up on you at night, eats you up from the inside and swallows you whole.

She has been like this since the day my father left. Vanished. Whatever you want to call it, he never came back. And it seems like he took a part of my mother with him. The happy, grateful and loving part.

The woman that always wore the brightest smile on her delicate face. The woman who told me goodnight story's and fairytales or braided my hair so it won't fall in my face and impede my sight whenever I went on adventures. Whenever I went out to observe the beauty of the world, even when it was limited for me.
The woman who loved.

That woman vanished, left, died with my father.
Her cold hand collides with my cheek once more, my knees and hands hitting the ground from the force of her punch. The floor was soft and cold under my palms, soothing my burning body in odd ways.

"Get your pathetic ass up" she demands in a cold and stern tone.
My mother used to have the most melodic and beautiful voice I've ever heard. Her quiet singing and soft humming when she made us dinner was music to my ears, always filling the cottage with light and joy. But the beauty faded away. Now her voice is sharp and deep, cutting my flesh with every syllable that leaves her once bright pink lips.

When I didn't get up as she demanded me to, I feel a sharp pain in my stomach, her dirty shoe surely leaving prints on my white gown. I wince slightly as I try my best to peel my eyes open again to look at her. Dark hair is messily falling around her shoulders, the blue dress looking worn and old. It is old. It's the dress she wore on my parent's first date, one of my favourite bed stories when I was younger.
"Look at you laying there like the pathetic coward you are. Weak. You're weak Almalthea." she spat, a disgusted expression painting her face. As I slowly begin to rise to my frail feet her face morphed into anger once again, dark eyes throwing a million daggers at me. She doesn't hate me. 
Well, maybe she does.

But the thing that irritates her most is my similarity to my father. I have his green eyes and my hair has the same colour as he once had. My nose and ears are more similar to my mother's, but my lips have the same shape and rosy colour as my dad's. The features she once admired and loved she now despises most.
As I stand tall again, she opens her mouth "How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to cross me. I don't want to be constantly reminded of the disappointment you brought to me and Aiden. I'm so sick of you. I told you to fucking leave, didn't I?"

Her voice grew louder and harsher with every word she says. "Maybe I should make you learn your lesson in a more.." she pauses as her lips form a small smirk "fun way". I haven't seen that look since the last time she decided to switch my punishments up a little. Nothing good comes with that smirk, I thought to myself.
My mother slowly turns in her heels and takes a few steps to our kitchen counter, grabbing something I couldn't make out at first. When she spins back around however, my entire body freezes and I stare at her, eyes wide open and alerted. It is a knife.

This woman has practically done everything with me, she bound me up in the living room and beat me with various items that she found laying around, she chokes and hits me without care, starved me more times than I can count, and when one of her friends came to visit she let him use and torture me, watching me crumble and scream under his touch.

But she never once used a knife. Sharp objects? Yes. But knives? Apparently, there is a first for everything..

I stay completely still in the corner of the kitchen, not moving an inch of my body while my mind is running miles right now, mentally already preparing me for the pain. When she's mere inches away from me, she speaks up again. "Listen Almalthea. And listen closely because I won't repeat myself, again." She spoke in a low tone in a quiet yet stern voice. Her right hand lifts up until the knife is firmly pressed against my neck. My mouth is dry as the desert itself, throat tight and aching. I can feel the cool metal pressed against my artery, reminding me that all of this is frighteningly real.

I blink a few times to focus my vision on her again, trying my best to mask my fear and uneasiness. "I will tell you this one last time" she started, her eyes turning into anger rather than amusement "I don't want to have this pathetic excuse of a daughter under my nose anymore. I'm more than sick of it." she spat, the look on her face telling me that she means every bitter word she says.

"I will leave for the marked and when I am back, you are gone. I never want to see you again Almalthea" She continued. "This is the last fucking time I'm telling you this." I search for any kind of emotion on her face, but there is nothing. The bags under her eyes add to her intimidating and cold look filled with darkness.
"Have I made myself clear, Almalthea?" Almalthea. My name once sounded like sweet honey coming from her plump lips, but now she says it as if it is the most disgusting thing she has ever said. And maybe it is.

When I didn't answer immediately her she presses the knife more firmly against my neck, my head beginning to spin slightly from all the adrenaline running through my body. "Yes Miss, I understand." I mumble quietly, the smirk on her face reappearing. "Wonderful that we understand each other, darling". The grip on my neck loosens and she makes her way back to the kitchen counter to put her knife away, getting ready to leave.

"Mother?" I asked quietly, internally cursing myself for the way my voice cracked when I called her. She snaps her head back to me and our gazes meet for a split second until I have my head tilted to the ground once more, avoiding her hateful stare. "I- I uh" I stutter, not even quite sure what I actually wanted to tell her.
"What do you fucking want now?" she yells in annoyance, the harsh tone making me look up at her again. And no matter how long I am searching, I still can't find anything even near to regret or guilt in her unloving eyes. The sparkle long gone.

"Goodbye. I wanted to say goodbye" I answered trying not to let my voice carry all the different emotions that are threatening to overcome me. No, not here. It would only be a feast for the devil, I thought to myself.

She doesn't even respond, just turns around leaving the cottage. Leaving me.
I stand there completely frozen in my spot for an entirety, watching the door and hoping she will come back and tell me she was just messing with me. Maybe I was hoping that I just had a very bad nightmare and that she and dad come to wake me up and comfort me, telling me that nothing of this has ever happened and that I am okay.

But she doesn't come back. She doesn't wake me.

My feet are taking me to my room on their own accord, my head hurting from all those questions flowing through my mind. What will I even do? Where will I go? I guess we will see. But once again my body seems to make the decisions before my mind can even comprehend them. I throw my bag on my mattress that lays in the corner of my room, if you can even call it that. The walls are damp and cold, smelling like old and rotten wood. Looking around my room I realize that I don't have much to pack anyway, so I only throw a few books and some old and worn clothes in the bag. When I am finished I sight loudly, running my cold hands through my hair before I open the window that faces the forest.

My parents always used to tell me that the forest is dangerous and that no matter what happens, I should never go in there. That it is to be avoided at all costs. But they are both gone now. So just like the last time, my body seems to know exactly what it is doing before I made up my decision. I throw my bag out of the window and climb out right after, my feet hitting the soft grass. And then I did the only thing that came to my mind in that moment.

I ran.

I ran as fast as my feet would take me, the wet and salty smell of the forest filling my nostrils as if I haven't breathed air in decades. Even though it is midday the forest seems very dark and cold, the sun barely shining through the tree crowns, fog covering everything like a warm blanket. Leaves making crunched and splattered noises with every step I take.

Not caring where I am going, I continue to run like it is the only thing I know how to do.
When the rush of adrenaline begins to lessen, I can feel my feet begin to ache, the sharp ground of the forest cutting into the sole of my feet like glass, my breath becoming more unsteady and short. I have never felt so free yet so trapped at the same time, the darkness of the forest swallowing me whole.

But then it came back,

Everything comes back.

Everything that I have tried so hard to push away, ignore, leave behind and never look back at.

All the pain. All the suffering. All the love I once shared. All the questions left unanswered.

The look on my mother's face the last time she told me she loved me. That was 4 years ago.

Memories, good and bad ones are filling my head and making me feel like I'm drowning.

Drowning in grief, pain and worst of all numbness.

I feel nothing yet everything all at once suffocating me. Overwhelming me.

It feels like the ground is giving in beneath me when I finally stop running, my knees hitting the hard ground while a silent sob leaves my icy lips. Feeling like I can't breathe I try to inhale as much air as possible, but no matter how deeply I breathe in nothing seems to be enough. Wet tears are staining my cheeks and running down my bare neck, the cold breeze of the forest awakening goosebumps on my skin.

There are a million things on my mind and yet I seem unable to make out any of them. I can feel how my head gets heavy and my legs underneath me start to feel numb. The emotions I've been trying so hard to put into this invisible box and lock up seem to escape and run me over like a horde of angry horses. And all I want to do right now is scream. Scream so all these feelings and overwhelming thoughts can somehow leave my body and make me feel again. Letting them all go.
So this is exactly what I am going to do. Tilting my head upwards with my eyes still tightly closed I began to part my dry lips to let it all out. To scream until my throat burns and my voice stops working altogether.
But something covered my mouth before I could even let out a single sound, my eyes shooting open in shock and fear once again.