On My Own

Escaping, Barely

The whore can't even defend her actions.

The words swirled around in my brain and attacked my very being. Flashes of my mother's face slashed against my eyelids and I could feel my throat closing up at the simple word.

Whore.

Out of the whole sentence, the implications, the suggestion in which Edmund- Psycho, I reminded myself, had voiced; the only thing I cared about was the word whore.

A slap stung at the skin of my cheek as I fought against the words of the woman- my mother.

"You're nothing but a whore, no wonder.."

Her words faded into the background of my mind as another sharp contraction shot through my nerve endings and sent me spiraling down a funnel of pain. I cried out.

Edmund reach towards me, and something in me snapped. I could feel it coming like a frieght train.

Me, bowing my head as I listened the the cruel words that my mother spewed in my direction, whenever I was in her line of sight. I could feel the sting in my knees as I was forced to kneel down and take her punishments.

I was so afraid of her, of her punishments, of being alive. Of whether or not she was around the corner, ready to lock me in the cage that we kept in the basement for when she felt particularily cruel.

And the boys came along and rescued me during a time when even my shadow scared the living daylights out of me. But something was wrong, I had been incomplete. Her words tainted my every move; any time I had an opinion about something I washed it away with her words.

I never spoke my mind.

I never argued, even when I knew I was right.

Something in me snapped at that exact moment. I went into the relationship with the boys, being a shell of a person, a doll. Something that my mother had formed me into with the years of abuse. The boys had been abused too, of course, but they'd had time to find themselves; I hadn't.

Well, not until recently. But it took losing myself to find myself, and it took remembering the horrors, to piece everything together.

Memories assaulted my brain, and I felt handicapped. I felt like the world was crushing down on me from all of the abuse I'd withstood, the creepy teachers, the cruel family, the unintentional smothering brought upon by the loves of my life.

I raised the hand that still had the needle in it and stabbed at him. I hadn't really been aiming, but when the needle sunk effortlessly into his eye, I wasn't so weak as to pause and feel ashamed of my actions.

This male had ruined my life and saved it all in one go. His intentions had been to harm me, to make me his and to hurt me. Of course that's not what his mind had told him, but that would have been my reality had I not lost my memories and been somewhat saved.

Clementine gasped, the small sound was off somehow, and as I took a closer look at her I realized that they'd done something to make it so she couldn't talk. The pains in my abdomen were getting worse, and I knew the little life that I carried was trying to break free- but it couldn't have chosen a worse moment to try and come into the cruel world I lived in.

"Can you walk?" I asked her, through my teeth as I undid the locks on her cage.

She nodded with wide eyes, and then pointed behind me. Something instinctual kicked in, and I made a proper fist while twisting around. My hand connected with Edmund's wind pipe, and I knew without a doubt that I had damaged it horrendously.

He fell back, gasping for air as blood spilled from his eye and trickled down the side of his face. Marie had yet to wake from the drugs I'd injected into her system. Part of me wanted to go back into the room, and hurt her, but I couldn't.

After everything she did to me, I refused to sink as low as she had, and kick a person while they were defenseless.

Clementine climbed out of her cage and helped me out of the door that blocked us off from the rest of the house. Edmund howled behind us, and I heard a sick sound that I suspected was the needle being pulled from his eyeball.

There was no sympathy for them, however. I couldn't afford to feel bad for what I had done.

The house was familiar, and it took me only a minute to begin directing Clementine to the front door. But as she reached for the handle, I felt my body betray my willpower, and screamed in pain.

My baby was coming whether I wanted it to or not. I knelt on the ground, breathing heavily.

Clementine, knowing what was surely about to happen, abandoned me momentarily. When she returned she had a bunch of blankets and pillows that she propped around me. Her soft, hoarse voice was hard to hear over the pounding in my head.

"It's okay Sang.. it's okay, we'll get you and the baby out of here... it's okay.."

Black threatened my consciousness.

"Sang.. push.. You need to... Sang..."