I'll stop Stabbing When you stop Screaming. [ON HOLD.]

I'll Stop stabbing, When you stop Screaming. [ch1 s3.]

So this is the longest i have written for this story so far.

I hope everyone likes it. You learn more about our "Victim".

I again saw this on the whats hot list. :D

Comments and votes = upload. <3

I'LL STOP STABBING WHEN YOU STOP SCREAMING.

Chapter one, section three.

The bright lights were blinding to me. I struggled to open my eyes and regain clear vision. The whole room was white. I reached up to wipe the tears from eyes and saw a large mirror, taking up one whole wall. I immediately knew I was being watched. I didn't want to move, but I knew I needed to if I was going to get any information. I glanced around the room once more and saw one black stool facing the mirror. I got up slowly and my body ached even more than it had last time I had been awake. Who knows when that was? I slowly stumbled over and took my place on the bench, sweeping my blond hair back over my eye, and behind my ear. I licked my lips and tasted blood. I took a slow deep breath, not wanting to see my reflection in the large mirror I knew I would have to look into.

"Coraline Brown." A robotic sounding voice boomed through the room. I immediately lifted my head and stared into the mirror, looking for any sign of a person, but only seeing myself. My black skirt was torn, and I was barefoot. There were scraps all over my legs, as if I had tried to fight, though I had no memory of anything. My white blouse had blood stains on it, and it was filthy. Was that my blood? I stared harder into the mirror and took note that my eyes were puffy, and my lips were swollen. What the hell happened to me?

"Who are you?" I shouted at the voice. No response came. "Why am I here?" I yelled again, tears and anger flooded my voice. Still no answer. "What did I do to deserve this?" I asked softly, knowing no answer would come.

"Deserve" The voice said loudly after a few moments making me jump. "Deserve is not the word you are looking for." The voice continued in monotone. "This is a gift." That set me off.

"A gift?" I shouted. "How the hell is this a gift?! You took me off the street, tied me up, gagged me, drugged me, and probably raped me. Please oh mighty voice from the unknown, Let me know how this is a gift." I was sick of playing games, I wanted some answers. "Who the fuck are you? Why am I here? Answer me!" I screamed loud, my throat burning. Again no answers came.

All the rage inside me took over. I jumped off the stool and grabbed it in both my hands. I tipped it over and began smashing it against the mirror. It didn't even shake. I knew what I was doing was useless, but I couldn't control myself. I slammed the mirror again and again, just wanting to be free. Tears poured down my face and I continued to scream and shout. I wasn't going to give up. I was going to fight and I was going to live! I don't deserve this. I'm a good person! I threw the chair hard at the mirror and it bounced off and skidded across the floor. I dropped to my knees, overwhelmed and defeated. I curled my body over and continued to cry, and pray. Asking whatever god there may be why I was here, and why this was happening to me. I begged for him to save me and to show me the way. I don't want to die, I'm to young to die.

When I regained control of myself I took many slow deep breaths and started trying to remember how the hell I ended up here. Nothing unusual had happened at work, just the average old men asking me out and slapping my ass. Nothing had happened at all over the past few days. I was home, and I was working, trying to be able to afford my dinky one bedroom apartment. I hated working at a bar, and being eye candy for worthless drunks. I hated my life the way it was, and I had planned to get the hell out of that town. I gave up trying to think of reasons I would have been "Targeted" and just started trying to remember that night. The last thing I remembered was the man following me, and then someone grabbing me. Probably that same man. I thought hard trying to come up with what happened between the time I was grabbed and when I woke up in that dark room. I kept getting random flashbacks from laying in the back of a van with 2 men staring over me, but I couldn't remember their faces, and I couldn't remember anything they were saying.

None of this was helping as I sat on the floor of the white room. I sighed in defeat and decided to look around the room. It was entirely white, besides the mirror, and black stool. It was extremely bright, and blinding. I blinked my eyes to relieve the pain. There was a concrete block attached to one wall with a dirty sheet draped over it. I guess they expected me to sleep again, so they could knock me out and take me somewhere else. Oh hell no! I studied all four walls looking for some kind of door. They had gotten me in here somehow. I was going to find the way out. I wasn't going to sit here and take this. I knew trying to peer through the mirror would be a useless attempted but it seemed so logical at that time. I resisted that urge and studied the back wall harder. I got up slowly and walked over to it.

When I saw a crack in one section my heart skipped a beat. Maybe this was the door. Maybe I could open and run for my life. Maybe I would make it, Maybe I would die. All I know is that I'm going to try. I traced my fingers along the crack, and tried to pry it open. Nothing happened. I stayed like for what seemed like hours, until my finger tips were bleeding and sore. I once again gave up, feeling like I was lost, alone, and that I was never going to get out of here. I walked over and faced the mirror again. I sat down Indian-style and stared at the floor, ignoring the stool laying on its side in the back of the room.

"Please?" I begged in barely a whisper, not daring to look up, and let them see my tears. "Please, just let me go."

"Why?" Was the unexpected answer that came from the mirror. I chuckled at this.

"Why?" I said softly, but sarcastically. "Your going to ask me why?" I shook my head.

"Probably because, oh I don't know, you kidnapped me, beat me, and know I'm locked in this horrible fucking room!" I started to shout "Or maybe because I have a family, friends, a cat, a job, a house!" I stood up and stared into the mirror. "Maybe because I'm not a nobody, and I don't deserve to be in here!" I started walking towards the mirror, shouting. "Maybe because whoever is behind this stupid mirror watching me is a fucking freak, and you deserve to be in a nice white room with padded walls!" I started pounding on the mirror, still screaming. "Let me go! Why am I here?! Let me go!"

"Sit down Coraline." The ominous voice said with no emotion. I didn't listen and I continued to pound harder.

"Let me fucking free!" I screamed, my voice weak, but loud.

"Sit down now, Coraline." The voice repeated with still no emotion. I laughed again, this time harder.

"Oh, is that a threat sir?" I said backing up. I wasn't going to take this much more. "And if I don't do as you say, oh mighty speaker box?" I said mockingly, staring hard into the mirror.

Suddenly the crack in the wall opened up, and a large man walked into the room, holding a large knife. My heart stopped, and my breath caught in my throat. I turned around and stared at the man, suddenly terrified.