Hurt

3

<Unedited>

This time, when I woke up, I remembered everything! Life hates me. Nothing hurt though. Or maybe it did? I couldn't acknowledge pain at that moment. The lights. They were too bright. I couldn't see. What was that smell? I felt the need to escape. Fear and anger burned in my veins and clouded my vision.

"Syren, not now. You have to get out of here!" My common sense screamed at me.

I eventually calmed myself down. Until my eyes adjusted to the light and I saw him. Your murderer.

A million thoughts ran in complete chaos in my head. What was he doing here? Why were there surgery tools next to me? And what kind of 'hospital' had bloodstained walls and blood-filled clothes on the floors? Where even was I? This sure as hell ain't no regular hospital.

I looked at the walls and found that the crusty blood staining then was creating a horrible rotting smell. I think death would be a better option then smelling that again! Anyways, back to the point. Blood. Bad sign.

He looked at me with dangerously glinting eyes, your murderer did. Or as most call him, Dr. PhatHoe. The look on his narrow face mirrored mine. A transparent murderous look. What did I ever do to him?

"You're Alyssa Mae Rose's sister right?" Spat his high-pitched voice. The voice I had put all my trust into. He said her name. Your name. Out loud. Using his mouth. The mouth that was a part of the person that killed you. The name I had been avoiding. Your name. The name that meant everything to me. What happened next wasn't under my control. I just snapped.

I grabbed the sharpest tool next to me, which was a surgical knife. I ran to him and stabbed him in the stomach. I enjoyed watching him bleed. I made sure to stab him just once but make it deep and long. It was enough where he'd be in a lot of pain, but not dead. Blood oozed out of the cut I made. A lot of blood. No, he couldn't die just yet. I stopped the bleeding with one of the bloody clothes that were in a pile near us. I made sure it was an extra crusty one, just because he didn't deserve the luxury of having a clean cloth clean his wounds.

His limp body hit the floor. I used more bloody clothes to tie him to the chair I was sitting at, but not before removing any sharp objects from that general area. Who keeps piles of blood-stained clothes just lying around? Convinced that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, I decided to explore the large room. I didn't take my eyes off of him for longer than thirty seconds at a time though.

I started to think. The blood-stained clothes, the 'painted' walls, the sharp objects? I wasn't that stupid! He was going to hurt me, and he'd done it to many people, many times before.

There wasn't anything interesting there until I found something. It was a flyer.

There was nothing interesting on it except for some titles.

How to deal with a close friend or family going through brain cancer.

Good foods for patients with brain cancer.

How to deal with the loss of a loved one due to brain cancer.

It all clicked. This was some sick, sadistic game. A twisted way to break me.

I didn't freak out though. That's all for one reason. You wanna be sick, sadistic and twisted with me?

Honey, you better know, I'm a trillion times better than anyone will ever be at being a monster.