Some Wounds Don't Heal

Chapter 1

The woman’s soft strokes across my arm made my posture rigid - causing the entire colour from my face to disappear. My healthy glow had been replaced by a sickly anaemic colour. I wanted, no needed, to create as much distance as possible; I was too afraid! 

Would she strike?

Her hawk like eyes seemed to paralyse me - making my entire body stiffen. Numb. Her baby smooth fingers delicately brushed against the pulse of my vein - generating an erratic, irregular pulse. I was blinded by her facade. Her mask. I was oblivious.

Her beauty was flawless and mesmerising - I thought such a magnificent face would be non-existent. Her facial features were too sharp (angular) to be soft.

How could I not notice the sadness in her eyes, buried deep beneath her easy lies? The lies that brought me warmth and happiness shattered - by the now weeping woman ponderously expressed her true emotions. The barrier that she created over the years that reached so high was painfully crumbling like a house of sand.

The woman I grew up with, the one I loved as a mother was fictional? Was it all an illusion?

How could I be so unaware of reality? Her heartfelt laugh was generally a constant, hollow giggle. All fake. The woman I thought I knew was now replaced by a petulant, pugnacious, psychotic women!

Abruptly, her immaculately manicured nails pierced through my flesh, producing a fiery red liquid to ooze into my grey t-shirt - creating a pool of blood at the top right-hand corner, inducing me to wince and flash out of my frozen state. 

I Yearned for my birth parents to appear, to take me away from this certifiable women. A sudden gleam of striking light landed on us, evoking me to think my parents could hear my thoughts.

“Please help me!” I screamed into my mind, hoping they would be my rescuers as the pain significantly burnt; she was generously spraying Savlon (healing spray) into my wound - instantly made me cower away from fear.  The pain felt like liquid metal running through my veins. 

As I thrashed and turned into my battered wooden chair, gripping the seat for support causing a splinter to enter the palm of my hand making me gasp as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, refusing to let the tears drop from the unbearable pain in my neck.

“Please stop,” I said in my ragged breath. 

“Im just getting started sweetie,” she breathed into my ear in her sickly sweet voice which I once thought was musical.

She laughed diabolically at me, her eyes filled with pure humour like watching a circus act except I was the freak at the centre of stage. 

As she furiously used her nails like small little daggers slashing across my arms and face. Then continuously spraying the Savlon into the cuts, she continued the agonising, torturous routine until I was no longer recognisable... 

The pain was excruciating which caused me to cry in hysterical madman ways, she towered over me as high as the stars, admiring her handy work which she crafted onto my body and will be forever engraved into my mind.

Carelessly, she tossed the empty bottle of Savlon onto the desk causing various different items to tumble down to the feathery snug carpet. 

Gracefully, she span around on her stilettos (high heels), she crept towards the luminous, lambent light shining down on us and forcefully yanked the black-out curtainsshut - plunging us into my complete darkness. It created an eerie, silent darkness that enclosed upon us.

Whimpering into my chair, my weight caused the chair to become unbalanced as I fell backwards with an oomph. Disastrously, my head didn’t hit the comfortable, cosy carpet. Instead I was greeted by the impenetrable flooring, causing my mind to shut down. I felt nothing.