Bloody Mary, chapter 7
I hate that man.
I hate that man.
He is the one that brought my pain.
He is the one that brought my suffering.
He is the one that took my trust away.
He is the one that took my life away.
I am haunted by the horrible images that I still remember...
***
I wasn't going to let her go. I had to find her. God knows what could have happened to her! She could have been lost in the woods, cold and alone. She could have sprained her delicate ankle. Her ankles looked as if she would collapse on top of them. I them thought of all the dreadful images that came to mind. She could have been attacked by a Galapter, a beast that had the head of an eagle and the body of a hound with wings of a great length. She could have been raped.
Or she could have been kidnapped.
***
It was a normal night in California. The sun was setting over the horizon; the sky blood red. I had just finished packing up the rest of the stuff in my room to load into the moving van waiting outside our house. I had one to do one more thing before we left for Georgia.
"Mum! I have to wash my hands!"
"Hurry Mary! We have to go very soon!"
"OK!"
I ran into my mum's washroom to wash the dust and grime off of my hands from my old shelves.
"How much dust could possibly settle on a shelf in a week?"
If only I had hurried, or not have even gone in there at all.
If only I had just wiped the dust on my jeans.
If only I hadn't locked the door.
If only I had remembered to lock the window to my mum's room.
He never would have snuck up behind me.
***
That was the only thing that stayed on my mind as I ran toward the dark city of Suicide.
Kidnapped.
I would kill the guy that got her.
He would pay.
He would pay for scaring me.
He would pay for killing me inside.
He would pay for hurting her.
And I was going to find her.
***
"No! NO! NO NO NO NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! MUM! HELP! SOMEONE!"
"There is no use in crying out for help Mary. You broke my heart. Now I'm gonna break yours!"
His green/hazel eyes seemed to burn right through mine.
He planted a kiss on my lips.
I started to bleed.
He ran his hands up and down my arms.
I started to bleed.
He cupped his hands around my face.
I started to bleed.
He took a knife from his coat of black and plunged it into my heart.
And I bled inside.
I was killed.
But I felt worse on the inside.
"You had the chance to love me, but you rejected me and now you will die with me and be my wife at just the right time."
And with that, he plunged the knife into his own heart and then threw the knife at the mirror. He lifted my body and brought me into the world of Dread and Death.
We may have only been ten, but he was convinced that he 'loved' me.
I hated him.
And I always will.
But I was forced to marry and I already had a dress for the wedding. It was blood red with a hint of burgandy. My hair was dyed red and had black highlights put in. I was to carry black roses and wore black converse. Our wedding rings were black and red; the black was mine. All of these items were wonderful, but I did not want to marry that man. I wanted to marry Mike.
He was the only person that truely cared.
I wanted Mike to come through the stained glass window that was displayed in my room. I wanted him to hold me and never let go. I loved Mike. And I hated Billie Joe Armstrong.
And I wasn't about to marry him.
I wouldn't.
And I certainly wouldn't be kissed by that monster ever again.
But I had no choice as I heard the sound of my door opening.
I hate that man.
He is the one that brought my pain.
He is the one that brought my suffering.
He is the one that took my trust away.
He is the one that took my life away.
I am haunted by the horrible images that I still remember...
***
I wasn't going to let her go. I had to find her. God knows what could have happened to her! She could have been lost in the woods, cold and alone. She could have sprained her delicate ankle. Her ankles looked as if she would collapse on top of them. I them thought of all the dreadful images that came to mind. She could have been attacked by a Galapter, a beast that had the head of an eagle and the body of a hound with wings of a great length. She could have been raped.
Or she could have been kidnapped.
***
It was a normal night in California. The sun was setting over the horizon; the sky blood red. I had just finished packing up the rest of the stuff in my room to load into the moving van waiting outside our house. I had one to do one more thing before we left for Georgia.
"Mum! I have to wash my hands!"
"Hurry Mary! We have to go very soon!"
"OK!"
I ran into my mum's washroom to wash the dust and grime off of my hands from my old shelves.
"How much dust could possibly settle on a shelf in a week?"
If only I had hurried, or not have even gone in there at all.
If only I had just wiped the dust on my jeans.
If only I hadn't locked the door.
If only I had remembered to lock the window to my mum's room.
He never would have snuck up behind me.
***
That was the only thing that stayed on my mind as I ran toward the dark city of Suicide.
Kidnapped.
I would kill the guy that got her.
He would pay.
He would pay for scaring me.
He would pay for killing me inside.
He would pay for hurting her.
And I was going to find her.
***
"No! NO! NO NO NO NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! MUM! HELP! SOMEONE!"
"There is no use in crying out for help Mary. You broke my heart. Now I'm gonna break yours!"
His green/hazel eyes seemed to burn right through mine.
He planted a kiss on my lips.
I started to bleed.
He ran his hands up and down my arms.
I started to bleed.
He cupped his hands around my face.
I started to bleed.
He took a knife from his coat of black and plunged it into my heart.
And I bled inside.
I was killed.
But I felt worse on the inside.
"You had the chance to love me, but you rejected me and now you will die with me and be my wife at just the right time."
And with that, he plunged the knife into his own heart and then threw the knife at the mirror. He lifted my body and brought me into the world of Dread and Death.
We may have only been ten, but he was convinced that he 'loved' me.
I hated him.
And I always will.
But I was forced to marry and I already had a dress for the wedding. It was blood red with a hint of burgandy. My hair was dyed red and had black highlights put in. I was to carry black roses and wore black converse. Our wedding rings were black and red; the black was mine. All of these items were wonderful, but I did not want to marry that man. I wanted to marry Mike.
He was the only person that truely cared.
I wanted Mike to come through the stained glass window that was displayed in my room. I wanted him to hold me and never let go. I loved Mike. And I hated Billie Joe Armstrong.
And I wasn't about to marry him.
I wouldn't.
And I certainly wouldn't be kissed by that monster ever again.
But I had no choice as I heard the sound of my door opening.
