To Free a Soul

Chapter Eleven

I walked through my childhood home, the Ghosts of memories and people seemed to float around me. It was both loud, with voices coming from every room I passed, and yet also silent. Glass shards crunched into the carpet under my bare feet, tearing into my skin and lodging in the bloody rips. If there was pain i couldnt feel it. I couldn't feel a thing. When I reached the kitchen I stopped. There a much younger me stood, clear as day, with cuts and bruises over every inch of my skin. My mother was sat in front of child me, one arm around my arms and torso, pinning me to her, and another holding a knife to my throat. A man with his face completely covered, but a dark shock of hair and every inch of visible skin inked, stood in front of the two, next to where I was standing. I couldn't make out much of the conversation, all the words garbled. I sighed and walked out of the room, stumbling down after falling over something in the hallway. I looked down only to see my mother's limp body and tiny me trying with all my might to wake her up. From one room I could hear her screaming my name over and over in a rage, and I heard the sickening sound of bones crunching. I closed my eyes and sat back against the wall, trying to block it all out. When I opened my eyes again it was to see several dozen tiny mess, from all ages, standing around and staring at me with dead eyes and in various forms of hurt and pain. I finally let the tears slip past as a choked sob tore its way out of my throat. There was nothing I could do.

I woke up to my phones incessant buzzing. That dream had been... disturbing, at best. Ever since my mother had tried to get back into contact with me I had rarely been sleeping, I had trouble eating, hell I had trouble even moving. Groaning I sat up against my headboard and ran my hands through my hair, tugging on it as a flood of tears left my eyes in frustration. I felt like screaming, like throwing things or maybe even jumping off a building. No... no that was to far. It was just my mother she would love it if I did that.

Finally I checked my phone. The sun hadn't even risen and yet I had hundreds of messages and missed calls from the same number. I slowly started going through all the messages and voice mails. They started nice enough, as they always did. She was trying to win me over. Then they started getting passive aggressive, little jibes as how well she's kept me alive and how I'm lucky she lives me, before eventually going full on aggressive, screaming at me to pick up or shed kill me. She knew where I worked and where I lived apparently and she would come. Then she would calm down and apologise and the cycle would start all over again.

I watched as another call rang out on my phone. One, two more, and then on the fourth call of the morning I finally picked up. I swung my legs out of bed and and started pacing as I waited for her to say something, anything to me rather then just sit in silence.

"You picked up," she breathed, sweetly "I can't believe you finally picked up, (y/n). I'm so sorry to call you like this I..."

"What do you want?" I spat coldly "I thought we agreed no fucking contact. What. Do. You. Want."

"Alright bitch let's cut to the chase then," my mother sighed, her tone of voice slipping lower and more aggressive, just as I remembered it "I need money. I'm in Japan, I came to find you. You're the only one that can help."

"No way," I denied "No fucking way. Not after everything you did. I'm not helping you and I never will. Leave me the fuck alone."

"Au contrair, I think you'll see me sooner then you think, bitch. You'll give me what I need or this won't be pretty. You remember all you're pretty little bruises and cuts, right? Do you want to relive that?"

"Fuck off," I spat, and hung up

Only for her to call again immediately. I didn't even have a chance to put my phone down. Sighing I accepted and put it on speaker as I started getting ready for the day. What ensued was a screaming match between us. I was so riled up I didn't even think of just hanging up again and blocking her number. I just shouted the same abuse at her that she did at me. She didn't like it but tough luck I didn't like what she was screaming at me. Finally she'd had enough and just hung up. I let loose a scream and started throwing things. Pillows hit the walls and floor with a small thunk but it wasn't satisfying enough. So next went the lamps in the bedroom. The thunked but didn't shatter. I walked all throughout the house creating one big chaotic mess. Things broke, things shattered but I didn't care. At one stage I even flung the necklace I wore with one of Hawks feathers of the balcony after I had strutted out to take a smoke.