A painter's game - Tom Kaulitz

Carved like a blade

***

I hadn't felt this fear for a long time, it was something that had been gone for a long time, sure I had been scared from time to time, but not like this, no. This was the gut wrenching feeling in your stomach, the voices mumbling in your head as you try to quiet them down, trying to keep your mind quiet so you can think, but you can't.

I was so afraid, like almost knowing something bad will happen. Everything is going so fast that you only think the worst.

And I hated it, because it stopped me from life.
But you always want it to stop death.

Like the things I've ever wanted is always on the other side than fear.

I ran as quick as my legs could go, through the street by people. Why didn't they notice the grown man running behind me, they all just gave me glances as I ran through, I didn't have time to stop. I just needed to look far ahead, and I'll be okay.

I quickly turned around an alley, and then another road. Running down the empty street as I looked for any type of escape, anything at all. My legs were shaking and trembling but I needed to be safe, just hide.

My eyes looking around the place with a tight throat. Please give me an escape, I thought.

I finally saw a unlocked metal door with some old graffiti painted on the rust. I quickly looked around before opening it. Seeing some kind of abandoned building, I didn't care where I was, I just needed to escape.

I grabbed the pole and took rough steps up the stairs, the con-create rubbing against my shoes. Almost getting stuck on the rail with my jacket but pulling it just so I had time.

I took deep breath as my chest felt tight. Breathing like I didn't have any air left in the world.

I saw a room up the first stairs, I ran fast into the dark room and hid behind the door, hiding me from anyone passing through.

I covered my mouth with a wince of cry. Forcing myself to be quiet, to not cry or wince.
My legs shaking as I leaned against the wall. Hearing heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

Please, please. Was all I could think. I don't want this again.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds, hearing the steps coming closer to the room.

I heard him walk inside, one step with his chains clinging in the quiet room. He stood there for a while without walking around or noticing I was there. I felt relived, like I had survived.

He stood there, breathing. "Eselin!" He yelled before walking out. And that's when I fully knew, it really was bill. His same old voice, same old tricks.

I didn't hear anyone anymore, I quickly fixed myself. My breath was shaky as I swallowed harshly. Trying to keep myself from shaking.

I took a quiet step out and watching out the door, hoping that he was gone.

I stood there, looking down and then up the many stairs. I could feel my heartbeat sinking a bit, I wasn't as shaken. After 3 years, I was still followed. It could never end.

I breathed out again, almost falling to the ground. How it all had felt, it was just like before. Just like how I had been kidnapped and  manipulated. Knowing the feeling I had of starving, being depressed, tricked and emotions I couldn't even explain. I almost wanted to cry because I have this frightful thought that I'll maybe have to suffer again.

And these memories, the memories I have carved into my brain with the purpose to stay forever, it's like a punishment. It carves me like a blade.

I didn't want to stay like that again, I couldn't, I could never forget the last time.

I had just gotten better, my meds, therapy, living with my mom, but that's also when I thought about the moments the most, his face, his arms, his whole soul.

I always wanted him when I'm finally fine.

I got myself together, fixing my jacket and slowly sat up. I took a deep breath after I ran down the first stairs, I walked down the stairs in a heartbeat. Wanting to get out of here as fast as possible.

I was going to walk down the last stairs but suddenly he appeared from an empty room. He appeared like he had waited for me.

I stopped and almost tripped when I saw him, his eyes intense. I could see his face much clearer now. He had grown, he was even taller now. Making me more scared, he could do anything to me, making me sickly nauseous.

"Don't move." He said, leaning forward.

His voice sharp, making me flinch. I took a step back, taking my pocket knife from my pocket, that I always had now. I clicked at it opened, making a sound as it showed behind my back.

I looked up at him intensively.

"Stop," he breathed.

I took another slow step back, my hand holding it roughly.

He breathed as he looked down into my eyes, taking a step further with his arms slightly out.

"I'm not gonna hurt you" he said, having a worried look.

But how could I trust him. How could I trust anyone, even him. All I had from the past is evidence why I shouldn't. The hands that I feel on my thighs when they're no longer able to harm me, will forever burn my skin.

Once the trust is gone, I won't get it back. And if I did, it wouldn't be the same.

"You will not, I will use this" I threatened, holding the knife up. I felt more fear, the rage was just a play.

With a swift of emotion, he aggressively grabbed my wrist with both his arm, flinging my arm into the wall. I grunted in pain as I looked up at him in genuine fear.

Everytime I've trusted someone, they show me why I shouldn't.

He bit his lip, intensifully looking at me with this horror of a look. His eyebrows narrowing just above his eyes, making a shadow cover his eyes.

I couldn't believe what was happening.

I held the knife in my hand, trying to keep it there.

He pushed his hands against my wrist, the purple scar that was left on my wrist send pain through my whole body, causing me to quickly drop the knife as he pushed my wrist harder.

He let go of me, making my arm drop.

I breathed heavily as my mouth was wide open, with every breath, a small squel came out. I was ready to cry, scream, anything. I was shocked.

He pushed his body up, sending the knife on the ground with his foot away from us. I now had nothing.

I just knew that, I would never be the same person I had once been.

***