The Saviour

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"No... Please don't..."

"..."

"No! No don't- please stop!"

"..."

"No!"

And that was it. The last scream. I can see the red from Mum's body seeping into my pink butterfly carpet. I cupped my hands over my mouth, sobbing, trying not to breathe. Mum turned slowly, trying to look at me with a smile.

"Mummy's okay..." She said an obvious lie.

"Mummy loves you..." Her last words.

"Freeze!"

"Don't move!"

"He's escaping!"

"You're under arrest!"

I was the only one of my family to survive. Countless funerals. Countless condolences. Countless sleepless nights.

I'm still haunted.

I gasp as I bolt upright, the nightmare replaying in my head. I sobbed silently, trying to forget what happened again. I looked around my room, and I can see a small, slightly invisible puddle of blood left behind by yesterday. The aftermath of a very one-sided fight, the remnant of a reminder that I belonged to a cruel handler of a person's life, a reminder that I was a tool, a slave, norhing more. A reminder that I was to only wear what he wanted me to wear, say what he wanted me to say, do what he wanted me to do. A reminder that I was merely an object to control. I sigh, getting up to mop it up with a T-shirt. Then a thundering knock.

"Oi, I got a friend coming over to pick up something in ten minutes. You better keep your mouth shut, or else." He said, the threat was missing. It must have been a rushed meeting arrangement. I dropped the shirt and threw on some decent clothes and put on my glasses, and waited.

Nearly exactly ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. I got up and exited my room to answer it. I could hear Ivan swearing from the bathroom upstairs in Swedish, something he always did when he was late. I opened the door, and a tall, burly guy in glasses greeted me. I swallowed hard, nervous.

"He- Hej." I stammered. The common language in Sweden, the one I always use to talk to people I don't know. It rolled off my tongue strangely, I was raised with Japanese and English, Swedish was only used by my dad. My mum was Japanese, and I spoke more with her. I expected him to frown at my accent, but this guy smiled kindly. I looked at him, and realised I met him before. It was Joakim, Ivan's friend who came here a few times. I completely forgot about him.

Joakim had visited quite a few times, he's been here to play video games with Ivan. I liked him, he was always so nice to me. He always brought sweets and things for me, as a matter of fact most of the nicer things I owned was from him. I was scared of him when he first turned up, he is quite intimidating at times. And he was so tall, it frightened me a little. But Joakim was a good man. I could feel it. It made me wish he adopted me instead of Ivan. And I think he mentioned before that he had a YouTube channel, called Yogscast Rythian. But Ivan never let me use his computer, so I never watched any of his videos. I wish I could have, it might have provided me with some distractions from the horrors behind the door.

"It's okay. I'm more comfortable with English." He joked. I nearly rolled my eyes at him, but I didn't, because Ivan would kill me if I mock him or his friends in any way.

"Right, sorry. I didn't recognise you there."

"It's alright. Might I come in?" He asked, and I stood aside to let him in. I had forgotten to put on some make-up to cover up my scars today, I realised as I panicked. I hoped that Joakim did not take notice. I pull out a chair for him to sit down on in the dining room, and I forced a smile. It felt foreign on my lips and cheek, and the scars stretched. Oh God... Please don't notice. Please Joakim please don't notice... If you did... Ivan's gonna kill me... Oh God... My head was spinning, cries of fear were pounding against my head, and they were rising in my throat. But then I knew I had to swallow all of that, and the words that came out were the mechanical words I had been programmed to speak.

Cursed - Adopted By YogscastOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora