SURVIVOR

// New soul //

Slowly got up from the bed, the room was dark and messy as the black curtains hid me from the sun's glare.

Liquor and pot seeped out of the air and into my nose.

Pushing myself off the bed, I grabbed my head as I walked to a near by desk. My legs wobbled, new clothing loosely hung over my flesh; a oversized sweatshirt to be specific.

Drowsiness consumed me, my flight or fight response was on neither.

Many pictures were scattered over the old wooden desk, names written on top with X's running through the women and men's faces.

My eyes observed the scattered images, until I saw myself in one of them.

A heart was drone around my face, the word "MINE" Scribbled on top.

"Hm, your awake." A familiar voice huffed behind me, a click indicated he shut the door.

It was his room.

"You...you don't own me." I stated, turning to meet his cold eyes. He only had sweatpants on, his stomach and chest were covered in scars while burns sat on his shoulders and upper chest.

"Tell me that when my name isn't carved into your arm." He smirked, his eyes flashed from my scar to my face. "I'm not a damn toy." I stated once more, the dried blood on my top lip began to become covered with new blood as it dripped out of my nose.

"Babe, who says you are?" He asked, taking a step closer through the dirty clothes.

"Don't call me that, I'm not a baby." I growled, stepping away.

Time took it's place in my mind, repeating the moments of the night before. A scowl grew on my lips, my eyes furrowed in anger and betrayal.

His black hair covered his stupid face, his ugly eyes locked with mine.

"What? You seemed to like the name...always crossing your arms and wrinkling your cute little nose..." He began, soon enough he was Infront of me, playing with a strand of my h/c h/l hair.

And guess what; my arms were crossed.

He was testing my damn temper.

"I think the name fits, since you wanna be a crybaby all the time as well." Jeff whispered, now I could see all of his features on his face due to how close he was.

My head kept on shouting to grab the vace behind myself and hit him over the head with it, but I figured I would save that for later if I hadn't escaped yet.

"Since when do I cry?" I scoffed, looking up to the killer.

"Well, last night for starters...when Ticster was chasing you with his pretty 'lil hatchets, when Masky dragged you by the hair back to the operator tree...when you found out." He got closer to my ear for this part, knowing it would set something off.

"That you would never, ever be able to see your darling kitty ever...again." he whispered in my ear, he was so close I felt him smile.

Callie wasn't dead.

She couldn't of been.

She had survived so much.

"And lookie here, our cry babies going to sob and yell...all because the precious white pest got it's head chopped off." Jeff let out a airy chuckle, pulling away from me and smiled down on my emotionless face.

"So baby, Do you think the name fits...now?" He asked, grabbing my chin with his hand.

"Yeah, but I wanna know something." I raised my eyebrow, looking up to him. "Ask away doll." Jeff gave a calm smile, resting his hand on my shoulder.