In the Brink of Demise

It was a damp night. I can hear the ambient sound of raindrops on the glass windows. I gently opened one of the doors and expectedly, it created a soft, creepy creak. I slowly entered the narrow gap between the jamb and the door with one side of the body first, so that I could have a peek of what’s inside. The room is dark, but sporadic lightning gives a hint of its features—I thought I saw dolls and teddy bears, a few of toys was left in the floor. The room is rather simple; a study table, a single bed, a tall cabinet and an unlit lamp.

Oh man. It’s just hard to find petite little girls in times like this. You know, I’m not into child games like hide-and-seek back when I was a youngster.

I didn’t bother turning the lights on. The periodic flashes of lightning that comes from the windows would be enough for me to see. “Come on, girl,” I whispered to myself.  Is she here? I don’t know, really. I wanted to believe she’s in here so I searched for any signs in the balcony, under the bed and in the tall, creepy cabinet. Maybe she’s really not here.

Stop. I thought I saw that really weird sofa chair on the corner of the room moved.  Is it her? It’s her. It is definitely her. I inclined and peeked under the chair and saw her curled up like a firm, clenched fist.

There you are.”I murmured.

I carefully stepped a few steps trying to get close to her. I accidentally stepped on one of her toys which almost made me slip.

“Don’t go near.” She said in a tensed voice.  She was trying to be tranquil but she did not succeed. Her voice was high-pitched and shaky; one can easily say that she was so seriously scared and panicky.

“Hey baby, what’s the matt—“ I tried to move and get closer.

“I said,” she hollered, “–don’t go near me!” The girl sure was brave. She yelled as she slowly stood up until her body was slightly bent, while staring at me with angry eyes. The lassie was at most 10 years old; in her loose pajamas that extended further than the length of her legs.

“I swear, if you go a step near me,” she dared to challenge me. “I’ll-I’ll shout!” She was agitated and her body seems shaking. Her shoulders were raised and her arms glued to her slight body while her fists were clasped tight.

I can’t deny it. The wobbly, frightened voice made her cuteness more irresistible. Though I was a bit hesitant of going close, I stepped two, small, hushed steps towards her and halted, observing her responses to my sudden act. Instantaneously, she gasped for air as she widened her eyes.  It was like she was out of breath for a second or two. She was stunned for an instant after the puff; then—I already knew she was going to scream.

That was it. I shouldn’t let her scream or else the neighbors would hear and of course, those busybodies would come over and mess with me – I always hated busybodies. I can’t let anything or anyone get in my way or else I would be in serious danger. I didn’t want something like that to happen. Besides, I never felt the coldness night inside a jail. I was never caught, you see.  I had to make a move; so I rushed to her.

In one stride, I got near. She managed to carry out short screeches but when I clutched her jowl, the screams were muffled. She shuddered violently until I took hold of her shoulders and managed to control her wobbling by embracing her with my arms. I can feel my right hand drenched with the tears of the fearful child.  The stifled noises of her terror were barely audible.

I felt thrilled. I don’t really know why. No, I’m not crazy; I’m sane. Though I don’t really know why I was in this situation right now, I was pretty sure that this ain’t right—perhaps.

Wait.  At that moment, I thought I heard something. I held on to the kid more firmly and tried to heed and listen to any suspicious noise.

“Caitlyn!” I think it’s a man’s voice. I heard it. I could tell he was downstairs.

The lass, though she was crying uncontrollably stifled, were filled with hope; I could tell. She twisted and wriggled in all directions to have at least one chance of getting out of my arms. As she did this, she tried to make noises so badly that she almost lost all of her strength—I can see that she’s already taking very deep breaths. Her efforts were no match for my brawn. Besides, she’s just a puny, little girl. The man downstairs could not possibly hear us.

“Oh no, my God…” Now the voice was clearer and closer. I was certain He already saw it. I was getting uneasy thinking he’s already close by. He was beginning to be terrified and so am I. I heard the banging of doors as he continues his frantic search. “Caitlyn! Caitlyn, where are you?!” The man’s voice was hoarse and edgy. It was loud that you could probably hear it wherever part of the house you are in. My breathing’s getting fast and real intense. My heartbeats were killing me as every pound hurt my chest. Feels like throwing up. What if he finds us? What if he kills me? I can’t think straight. I can’t even breathe right.

I shook the girl’s head trying to tell her to hush. Shivering, I whispered in her ear as I grit my teeth, “Shut up!” She shed more heavy tears with her eyes tightly shut.

Suddenly, there came another deafening thunder. It’s funny how I got shaken and startled. The child took advantage of the moment and bit the skin off of my index finger.

“Ow!” I glanced at my hand and shook the blood off. Oh, I remember. This blood did not solely come from the wound just now, so it will not easily come off.

She managed to get out of my grasp and run away but I got along her and grabbed her long hair. The persistent kid had the opportunity to bang the wooden door with her right hand before I squeezed and lifted her in midair. We backed up away from the door as she screamed her heart out.

 “Dad,Dad! I’m here! Help, I’m he— “I got her again in the jaw and covered her mouth .I guess the man will find us anyway. I can hear his running footsteps in the timber stairs.

 “Caitlyn! Where—Caitlyn!”

He’s probably closer. I have to get ready. What do I do? Now, I’m getting more jumpy and anxious. I’m scared. I got to do something.

With the girl still squirming in my arms, I rounded the room to find something of use. I muttered words to myself which I could not also understand, with anxiety and fear as I take deep, shaky breaths.  I dragged the girl and searched in the drawers while my hands shook violently. Finally, after opening three drawers, I found a piteous pair of scissors. Is it not too late?

I felt a hit at the back of my head. The child got loose of my clutch as I fell flat on my face. I was lucky I didn’t pass out; or was I? He’s already here. How? Maybe he went through the balcony door that I left open. What neglect! I’m screwed.

The man turned me over to my back and pummeled me; then again and again. I could see his infuriated face even through the shadows of the room. That resentment I set my gaze upon was unimaginable, inconceivable. I never saw anything like that visage before. For that I knew he will never stop it. He will never stop beating me. Even now, I could not feel his punches anymore; it’s just full faintness. I could feel the blood spurting and dripping from the wounds on my face. Is this appropriate? Is this reasonable? Now, I’m a threat to his child. This is right for me and I deserve this justice.  But my family, my greatest treasures, did not apparently.

I loved them. They’re so dear to me. I would give anything –if they ask for the world, I would gladly surmount it; even if it costs me my own, devastated life. They’re my whole world. Now that they’re gone, there’s no reason left to breathe. So I think I just lost my own mind.

Whilst the beast continued on thrashing me with his fists, I could hear the stormy cries of the child. She was crying for me. She cried the same cries my child howled when I was in the brink of demise. That was when this exact scenario happened in our innocent and peaceful home; only, tonight, I was the killer.

Then I remembered how I heartlessly killed her mother just because she was protecting her from me. But this blameless, little girl was crying for me—I know it from the very bottom of my heart. I felt loved once again.

Did I die? It doesn’t matter anymore. All I want is to be loved again; and it was granted.



1 Comment

  1. Pingback: soarlikeeagle | Weekly Writing Challenge: 1000 Words | Play with Me

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