All in tears. (Tryout) -- GWA Tryout board

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Date Posted: 15:19:23 05/11/02 Sat
Author: Kira Benson
Author Host/IP: spider-wk012.proxy.aol.com / 205.188.198.152
Subject: All in tears. (Tryout)

The buzzing of an alarm clock echoes loudly through the decently sized bedroom of a large apartment. As the monotonus noise fills the living place, the golden sunlight of morning shines and pours in between the window blinds. Yellow light crawls in and soon covers mostly all of the bedroom, including the queen sized bed. Most of the once red comforter that lies messily on top of the hefty bed now appears to be a orangish color. The thick blanket shifts on the bed several times, left and then right, inching further and further toward the soft, plush carpet below. Finally, it can no longer cling onto the bed and slips to the floor, heaping into a massive pile of red material.

Besides the annoying sound of the alarm and the harmonious singing of birds nearby, there are more audible noises. But these sounds are not as beautiful as those of a happily chirping bird; they are sounds of a person in distress. A person in torment. And they're coming from the bed. The bed that is now only covered by two thin black blankets that are loosely sprawled out upon it. Dark brown hair is scattered over the red fluffy pillows near the headboard as the person twists and turns it's body repetitively. Grunts and short cries escape their mouth at each movement they make as they seem to never become comfortable. A small whimper is heard and soon after, the person pleads, "No...no..." in an almost terrified voice. The gritting of their teeth is the only thing holding them back from letting out a blood curdling scream. A scream that was bound to shake the walls. A scream that was bound to wake her surrounding neighbors.

Alas, it rests on it's back, it's arms are plastered to the mattress on each side of it's body. It lies there stiffly, but the chest of the feverish person rises and falls rapidly, heaving and breathing heavily. Sweat trickles slowly down their cheeks and soon rolling down their neck and resting at the collarbone. The wavy brown hair is also dampened around the face. After an audible gulp from attempting to gain composure of their breathing, the eyelids, that consist of long, full lashes, shoot open at a high speed. Their vision focuses on the pale colored ceiling above her. It's eyes are now open, and now aware of it's surroundings. But, somehow, the eyes are still not satisfied from awakening from the fiery, hellish, and oh-so-realistic depths of it's oftenly occuring nightmares. The doe brown eyes are big and show fear, similar to the eyes of a frightened child whom believes that an evil monster is lurking under it's bed directly before bed. The only difference is, these are the eyes of a woman. And not just any woman, a powerful woman that cowers at nothing. A woman that has made herself, forcing her to never fall apart. A woman that has turned her flaws into her most powerful weapons. A woman now immune to all poisons that people spoon-fed her, sometimes on a daily basis.

So why was she so afraid?

It was the only thing that caused chills to extend up her spine and make her entire body shiver in terror. It was a thing of her past that she purposely avoided talking about because of it's dark nature. It was the only thing that could get to her, the only thing that caused her to awaken in the morning with a panic. And yet the events had happened so long ago. But despite the fact that they took place in her past, it occured constantly, making it seem like it had just taken place yesterday.

The fear stricken eyes belonging to a young lady began to shift to each side of her, attempting to clear her blurry vision. She blinks a few times and then stares back at the plain ceiling. Shutting her eyes tightly and letting out a shaky sigh, she tries, with all her will power, to reset her thoughts. However, her mind only remains on the events taking place in her evil dream and sends her into an unwanted flashback.

[start flashback]

...The house was quiet, including inside her room. She was lying in her comfortable bed, blankets and quilts piled over her and pulled up over her head. Her eyes were shut, but she was only half-asleep. The room would've been pitch dark if it weren't for the multiple number of glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling of her bedroom. Her body trembled almost unnoticed. She pondered between staying in bed, hoping that he would just pass by her room and not enter and sneaking out her window to her friend's house and spend the night.

Deciding that the last action would make him more furious, she chose to stay and pray that he was sober. It was a 50-50 chance, as usual. Sometimes he would come home, stumble inside, and pass out on the couch. Other times, he would storm in angry at the world, or so it seemed. His multiple personalities that were triggered by his drunken stature were completely unpredictable.

Suddenly, the front door slammed with a noisy banging sound, definately waking most of the house. She heard clumsy footsteps below her, yet they were moving quickly and in her direction. The steps became louder as he stumbled up the stairs. Her body involuntarily began to quake and she shut her eyes tighter, repeating a silent prayer in her mind.

He reached outside her room and stood there for a few moments. It seemed as though for those several moments, she didn't breathe. He turned the doorknob forcefully and swung it open with ease.

She bit her bottom lip to prevent a whimper that would've escaped her mouth. He stepped over to the bed, breathing heavily. Reaching for the blankets, he pulls them back and wholly off the bed. They fall to the ground and coldness of the room causes her to curl up into a fetal position.

"Get up. Right now," he demands in a cold, stern voice. She slowly opens her eyes, not wanting to see the figure of her supposed father hovering over her. Rising and sitting up on the side of the bed, she looks up at him, her tired eyes pleading him to go away.

His eyes fill with fury and he painfully grasps ahold of her wrists and snatches her up from the bed. She shrieks in surprise, then curls her lips into a frown due to the bruising of her tiny wrists. "Didn't I tell you to get up?!" he shouts down at her. He then tugs her by her wrists and literally throws her into the nearby wall, the back of her head hitting and bouncing off. She breaks into a train of sobs, holding the back of her head.

"It's time I taught you a lesson," he growls, walking towards her slowly, his eyes devilishly staring at her.

"But, I-I didn't...DO ANYTHING!" she cries out, almost blacking out because of serious blow to her head.

Before she knew exactly what was going on, she heard loud slaps, along with a series of sharp, painful stings shooting across her face and head. Before she could react, the world of her vision began to fade away until there was nothing but darkness...

[end flashback]

She immediately sits up in her bed, frantically looking around. She pulls her knees up to her body, resting her chin upon it. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rocks back and forth slowly. Searching around the room again, it feels as though everything has become larger. Her nightstand, her window, her drawers, her door, everything. She feels incredibly small compared to everything else, like a little child. Like the abused child she was a few years ago. Too small to fight back. Unwillingly hit every other night for no apparent reason. Her heart feels so heavy, yet she can't bring herself to cry, even if she wanted to. She was all out of tears.

Interrupting her slight rocking, which was an attempt to calm herself, is a phone call. Taking a sharp breath, she turns her body to the side and reaches over to the nightstand that holds her black cordless phone. Picking up the receiver and pressing the 'talk' button, she places it to her ear.

"H-Hello?" she asks, her voice noticingly shaky to the person on the other end of the receiver.

"Kira, are you okay?" the concerned voice of her friend, Seth Valentine, is recognized on the other end.

Make something up...hurry!

Kira thinks for a second, then replies, "Uh...yeah! I'm perfect. I just...thought I saw a bug."

Way to go, genius.

Kira can already hear a few of the sarcastic remarks Seth has churning in his head, but luckily he keeps them to himself. "O...kay. But that doesn't excuse your being twenty minutes late to meeting me here at Starbucks, Star."

She had completely forgotten. Slapping her hand against her forehead, she apologizes sincerely. "Oi. Sorry, Seth. Give me another 30 minutes. I still have to take a shower and get dressed."

Seth chuckles. "Alright, alright. I guess I can wait a few more minutes. Just don't be late again."

"Yeah, yeah. Later," Kira retorts, rolling her eyes at his demanding her to do something. As if he didn't know she never listened to anyone but herself. Pressing the 'talk' button again, she places the phone back onto it's holder. Sighing loudly, she slides off the bed and walks off towards the bathroom.

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Replies:

E-mail. -- Kira Benson, 15:21:27 05/11/02 Sat
I have an idea... -- Tom W, 17:24:54 05/11/02 Sat