Stuck in Reverse (Open)[renamed]
Mar 9, 2011 23:58:27 GMT -5
Post by Dancin on Mar 9, 2011 23:58:27 GMT -5
Lina Lange. The blind girl.[/colour][/blockquote]
I lie in the street, in my darkness, sobbing into my hands. My dress is ripped up one side and I am missing my shoes. I try to feel my hands out for my walking stick but they encounter something warm and damp and I shriek, clutching them back into my chest. I don't even know where I am, the last place I remember being was just outside the docks. I can't hear anything anymore, which just adds to my feeling of panic. I can't be without two senses. I try to call out for help, but my voice gets caught in my throat, rough and dry.
I feel filthy, my skin is warm and sweaty, covered in only god knows what. My hair is gross and plastered to my neck.It's hanging limply around me and tickling my lips, which are fat and bleeding slightly. Several of my nails are broken down to the bed and they sting like no other. Scratches run down my arms and back leaving the skin is puckered and sore.
I try to forget, try to force the last few minutes out of my mind. I try to smother the pain down and into my stomach, but things keep surfacing. The smell of their breath, like death and liquor and something else foul. The way their skin felt like an orange that had been sitting out in the sun too long, wrinkled and slightly sticky. The biggest mans grunts, over and over again, their laughter as I cried for help.
"'Aint no one gonna help you freak." He whispered in my ear, spittle flying onto my skin. I flinched away and he grabbed my face, his grimy fingernails cutting into my cheeks. "You're not going anywhere bitch." And then he spat on me, laughed again and continued on like nothing had happened.
His hands, crawling across my skin and making my arm hairs stand on end. His lips, dragging down my neck and leaving my chest slightly wet with saliva. I was pressed against the rough brick wall, the tips of my feet just brushing the ground. If I tried to thrash, he would drop me and the floor would hurt more than the wall.
Afterwards he laughed, patted my face harshly and dropped me to the ground. I lay there unmoving, while he and his buddies laughed and walked off into the distance. They had each had their turn, but he had been the worst. I heard the clatter as one of them kicked my cane, a sound that kept ringing through my ears, along with all the other sounds I would never forget now. His labored breathing, my screams, their cruel laughter.
Still lying on the ground I curl my legs into my chest, pulling myself into a fetal position, and cry softly.
"Just let me die..." I moan into the night, knowing no one can hear me.