Twenty Seven | Narcissistic Cannibal

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"I just need to look around,

See the life that has come unbound."

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            Pain was the only thing that she knew was real.

            It rippled through her skin, through her bones. Her own screams echoed in the walls of her mind. A rush of blood filled her ears, burning her as if it was acid.

            Kitty was certain it was never going to end.

            Curled into the foetal position, she was locked. Forehead lying on the ground, its coldness only helping slightly, tears leaked out of her eyes. Her knees felt as if someone was constantly pinching them – with garden shears. Something dribbled from her nose, slowly sliding from the top of her lip. Haggard, short breaths shuddered from the back of her throat. She could have taken the sharp stinging that was circulating her body. Unfortunately, it felt like someone had slid a knife up her back. The pain was horrendous. It was taking all of Kitty's willpower not to move, or to flinch from the severity of it. It wasn't like it was constantly there. No. It was the worst type of pain. It dipped in and out, leisurely taking its time torturing Kitty.

            But she was still alive. Her heart still beating, her lungs still inhaled oxygen. At that moment though, she wasn't sure if it was a blessing. It meant that the pain could end, but it had been hours since she'd had some rest. Some relief. But no. She'd lost all her senses, but touch.

            She couldn't even try and listen to something to take her mind off the pain. There wasn't anything she could smell, to distract her. Nothing.

            Death would have been a much nicer road to tumble down.

            Suddenly, it was as her body had reset itself. The senses that had blinded her, left her in the darkness, now hit her. Everything came back full-force. Like a lorry, going at an incredibly fast speed, hitting a human.

            Another scream left her lips.

            And then it was like she wasn't in control of her body. If she were, she wouldn't have contorted her body. Her spine wouldn't have suddenly jerked upwards. Nor would it have slammed back down. Kitty's legs wouldn't have stretched back, almost splitting the knee-cap with how fast they jerked. Her elbows wouldn't have suddenly been thrown out.

            If she'd been in control of her body, she wouldn't have moved.

            But something was controlling her limbs. Causing her more pain that she had ever felt. Ever known.

            Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't alive. Maybe she was dead. And this was her punishment for never speaking out against her dad's wicked ways. For letting Brandon be exiled at sixteen. For not being strong enough to stop her father from sentencing Brandon to death by The Culling. For involving a pregnant woman in a wild, almost impossible escape plan. For not standing up for herself, letting her father control what she did.

            After all, Kitty didn't think she deserved a spot high in the sky with the moon goddess. No. She thought her soul was to be stuck six feet underground, locked in its own cage.

            Pricks at her fingertips soon turned to a sharp, stabbing pain. Beneath that she could feel her skin thumping, heartbeat increasing. It was like someone was stabbing blunt nails into her hand. Her body felt too tight, as if her skin was shrinking against muscle and bone.

Saving Kitty | OLD | ✔Where stories live. Discover now