SURVIVOR

// Metal on my hands //

His weight pulled be down, making me grunt.

"Are you feeling better?" He was in a good mood, not quiet nor loud.

"I've been fine." I responded, watching the show intently.

"Whatever you say." He muttered, resting his palm on my knee. This action made me freeze, my heart began to pace faster.

"Get some rest."

And so I did.

....

That night I had many dreams, some were of a white lady in the torn dress.

She sat besides me on a bench in the middle of the woods, a razor in my hand as wine bottles surrounded us at our feet.

The stream was loud, but peaceful.

I think her name was Sadie.

She was sad.

...

The next one was of b/f/n, it was foggy.

They're eyes were black, cheeks carved with blood.

They seemed outraged, but calmed down at my touch.

Whispering particular words before my dream faded away; don't go to sleep, you won't wake up.

....

The last one was that I had a firearm in my hands, laying in the bed pointing the muzzle at Jeff.

I wanted to get up, I could already feel myself getting slapped.

Get up.

Wake up.

HES GOING TO HIT US

......

I shot up, quickly pushing the invisible weapon away as Jeff sat up and looked over at me.

"The fuck was that about?" He groaned, scratching his cheek.

I caught my breath.

"Nothing." I gulped, laying back down.

And that's why I never liked firearms, to many memories behind the metal against my cold palms.

"Nightmares are kinda normal here, you'll get used to them." He yawned, watching me as I sat up and leaned against the wooden head board letting my eyes get lost in the darkness of the bedroom.

"Is there something we can do? To..." My tired mind had seen him as the friend younger me would've been open to, but I went quiet when I came back to reality and realized he was one of my captors.

"I mean, there's a few things but I don't think you would be in to them." He chuckled as he scooted closer to the point I could feel a few of his stray black hairs for how close his head was, even in the dark I could imagine his smirk. "Do you always have a sex joke up your sleeve, Jeff?" I asked, resisting the urge to giggle.

Jeff was so gentle back then...

What happened to my Jeff?

Not the monster, the violent wolf that would soon show itself and take any chance it got to turn on me and shove me to the floor.

The one who cared about me, that...maybe even loved me.

"I have much, much more up my sleeves." He spoke, making me smile at such words. "Oh cut it out." I giggled, reaching below and pushed his chest in a playful manner.

I felt him grab my hand, his rough texture overlapped with my smooth/rough/cold/warm flesh.

Many times afterwards I would get to feel the hands of the monsters, know they're feelings from deep within their minds and in they're breaths that would radiate on the back of my neck.

"Are you not scared of me anymore?" He whispered, holding my hand to his chest.

I was honest this time.

"I am, scared of you, when your not here." I spoke uneasily.

"I'm right here, besides you." Jeff responded, confused, tightening his grip on my hand.

"You're you, I'm scared of the smiling man inside of you." I tried to reason.

"...I'm sorry." Jeff spoke out into the musty dark room, leaving his words to hang in the air.

"Don't be, we all have monsters inside of us." I reassured him, knowing either way he would have no chance at redemption.

"What if he hurts you?" Jeff barely whispered, he didn't want the only thing keeping him from going berserk dead... Right?

"And when he does, my blood spills for good."

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Sorry this chapter was short :0

If y'all couldn't tell the narrator is Y/n telling they're story, so basically you reading to yourself on your past?

U pplz wanna see my drawings like a five year old putting they're shitty ahh picture of Pete the cat onto the old fridge in the kitchen that still has dishes in it from last week? Lol