[Calliope]: 216.Contests.A Writing Competition

  I opened my eyes with a curse. The light was blinding so I raised my arm to shield them as I squinted around at my surroundings. Gradually I began to adjust to the sudden change and took note of the familiar, if disconcerting, surroundings. Some inner part of me let out a groan at the realization of where I was. Why is it happening again! the inner spirit wailed.

  The horizon was spotted with toppling buildings and cracked walls and an echo reverberated down the dismal streets towards me. Rotting packets of flesh and garbage caused my senses to be assaulted with blinding images and a horrid stench. I ran through it all knowing that there was no hope. I wouldn’t escape until they allowed me too. Still, I couldn’t prevent myself from at least trying. Who knows, maybe this time would be different. Maybe this time I wouldn’t have to relive the knowledge and the guilt, the pain and the repulsion.

  I ran away from the echo. I had learnt to do this after the first few times but it never altered the sequence of events. No matter how far and fast I traveled in the opposite direction of the source, the sounds still became louder and more defined. The high pitched moaning, the resonating thumps the shrill cries for pity. It might have been easier if I had just stayed in one place but that was impossible, I’m convinced even if I did that then the source would travel towards me.

  Rounding a corner I slipped on a fettering pile and slid into a looming wall. The scrapes on my arms began to bleed sluggishly but I didn’t care, it was nothing that hadn’t happened before. If it hadn’t been that pile of slime it would have been one around the next corner. I slowed my pace slightly to prevent another mishap but still carried on warily. I knew at any moment I would come upon them and then I would be frozen, might as well move for as long as I could.

  To my left a metal gate swung eerily into its courtyard. I imagine that this is how a nail feels when presented with a magnet as I was gently and then more forcibly tugged towards this opening. I grasped at the walls and the fence, trying to gain a foothold on anything that would slow my progression more. I felt that inner part of me recoiling and shriveling with every inch I moved closer to the lighted garden. I could see their shadows now as if they were a tableau played out across the opposing wall. The smudged movements obscured by the oblong surface making the actions appear jerkish and clumsy. I knew they were far from that though.

  At last I was tossed around the final barrier and the scene was in full view. While the shadows had offered at least grotesque sort of mysticism the uninhibited view was appalling. There I was on the ground curled into a ball so obviously defeated that it was embarrassing. Why hadn’t I fought? There’d been so many opportunities for me to lash back yet I never had. He towered over me, he always had. His height had been what had attracted me too him at first, not many men were taller than me, at least not around here.

  He sent another kick into my back causing me to uncurl against the pavement. I retreated back against the wall as I watched him subject me to such cruelty. All too soon there was a shrilling giggle that came out of a doorway and the inner part of me that had been shriveling turned black and hard. A shadow detached itself from the others and took on the form of a stunning blonde with hazel eyes and a perfect smile. The betrayal flooded my senses all over again and I gasped for air. If anything had motivated me to defense it should have been his uncouth approach to faithfulness. I turned to see my battered body sprawled on the ground as I tried to send some telepathic message urging me to get up. Don’t give up like this, fight for yourself, but I never did.

  It was always the same. I was always his punching bag. Always the one who took second best to her and always the one that got beaten. Despite this it was me that felt guilty; guilty over not helping him and guilty over hating them both so much. But why should I feel guilty? I was the one that had been used and I was the one that had paid for everything. Bile rose in my throat as I watched on in repulsion. I had no spine and I hated myself for it. I had to get out of here before I went even more insane.

  I watched as my broken form on the ground glared up at them, her eyes steaming with hatred. As she approached him and they embraced in the all too familiar passion a wave of pain engulfed me. A piercing shriek split the air but it didn’t come from my crumpled form but from me pressed against the wall. I awoke in a cold sweat with the sheets knotted in my legs. I was drowning in hopelessness as the full fact that I would never escape my memories assaulted me.

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For A Writing Competition – Theme: You wake up somewhere and must escape. Now what?

© Angie O'Connor