Bandit is troubled, how will she escape? *one shot*
I sat there, twirling the silver round and round in my long bony fingers thinking. Thinking about all of the things THEY said. I knew they were right. Fat! Ugly! Tramp! Emo! All true. I suffered from a lot of conditions like anorexia, bulimia, depression, bipolar. I was exhausted from carrying them around all day everyday.
The back garden looked peaceful, beautiful. The blood red and snow white roses lying in their beds contrasting in the most perfect way with long stem's and strong pointed thorns giving them the edge I wish I possessed . The living ivy slowly creeping up the tall black fence that was enclosing the garden as if holding a secret. The small pond, home to the two bright dancing fish my father found so much happiness in. My great grandmother Elena's chair standing proudly at the head of the garden, overlooking the beauty that it beheld. It's was a dull October night, giving the garden a twisted and dark feel. I truly loved it, it was my escape from all of this, and to know that I was going to loose that in a week, due to the move was devastating.
I closed my eyes and allowed my head to fall back. I could feel the chill of the wind tickling my face, blowing over me teasingly. I lay down on my back and ran my fingers through the over grown, slightly off coloured grass, feeling it play with my finger tips, I chuckled slightly at how the simplest things could make me feel better, but not enough to change my mind. I let my mind drift back to when my days were happier. To when I didn't get yelled at, teased, beat by those who were 'normal', to when my mother was still alive only last October. A year ago today to be exact. I remember that night, that awful, awful night.
Singing lessons. That's where I was, trying to follow in my fathers footsteps at eleven years old. She was late...again. Looking back now it was such a damn stupid thing to argue over. We were driving home and the rain fell in a constant rhythm heavily, making you feel near blind. We were late for to see daddy's band live on TV so mom was speeding just a little too much.
"So what's your excuse this time?" I asked, rage leaking out of my words.
"Bandit I was like 10 minuets late! Let it go?" mom said in her defence.
"No mom! This is like the seventh time I won't let it go! Oh and by the way you weren't 10 minuets late, you were 25 minuets late!" I screamed.
She didn't say anything for a while and the awkward silence fell into the car and devoured us until she broke it by saying "I too have a life you know Bandit, and it does not revolve around you!"
"I never said it did mom, I don't do much, this is pretty much the only thing, but even that's too much for you to MOM LOOK OUT!!!!!!!" I screamed when I saw the too seriously bright orbs and the obnoxious horn. The car swerved and the tires screeched in a tormented manor. I remember spinning uncontrollably and then nothing.
The next thing I knew I awoke in complete darkness and my ribs and head had searing pain shooting through them. I raised my hand to my head and was far from surprised to see my hand then soaked in blood. I looked to my left to see my mom leaning forward with her head resting on the steering wheel and arms hanging lifelessly by her side. I feared the worst and tore my eyes away from the scene. I wasn't crying, this really confused me, isn't that what was supposed to happen in this kind of situation? I eventually gathered the courage to look back at my mother. I shuck her arm gently, not registering the icy feel of her white skin,and asking her to wake up. Saying that we needed to get home to see daddy on TV. Then I began to panic and used both of my arm to shake her with more aggression, screaming, begging her to wake up. When she didn't I pushed her and she lifted and flopped against the car door exposing her smashed, blood covered face and something metal protruding from her stomach. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't breath and my head pounded. I felt a cold sweat form on my back and bile raised in my throat. I leaned into the back of the car and vomited violently the contents of my stomach.
I remember digging my cell phone out of my bag and reading the screen I saw
31 missed calls from: Daddy
Shit! I dialled 911 and alerted them about the accident and my mother and out where abouts. I still noticed I hadn't cried. My mother was lying dead next to me and I couldn't even shed a single tear, but I knew that my heart was shattered into a millions tiny pieces and was lying at the pit of my stomach.
I was brought back to reality by a crystal drop of rain falling upon my face and gliding down my check. To this day I still hadn't cried. I think that when I puked that night the remains of my heart came up with it. That's my only theory. I felt a sharp twinge in my palm and looked down to see blood. The razor. It was time.
The rain was now falling in a extreme stance, like it did that night. The thunder interrupted my calm atmosphere making me feel angry as the loud, frightening crashes came again, and again. I closed my eyes and thought of my moms smiling face.
I thought of her soothing voice as she sang me to sleep.
I thought of her delicate fingers strumming away at her guitar.
I thought of the same fingers that used to push strands of hair away from my face and dry my tears when I knew how to let them fall.
I was feeling extremely weak and could no longer control my hands. The razor dropped to the grass in silence. My vision was fading. I wad drifting in and out of consciousness and I smiled to myself when I could hear my mom calling my name in hushed tones.
"Bandit. Bandit?" it got louder and the word was laced with panic slightly. Then it was the loudest I've ever heard it, "BANDIT!!! Mikey call 911!"
The next thing I knew I was lying in my fathers arms trying to focus on his perfect face and his heavenly voice begging me to stay with him and that everything was going to be okay. I gave him the warmest smile I could muster and used whatever feeling I had left in my hands to wipe away his falling tears, I then said "sing to me daddy?" he looked confused but obliged.
"the world is ugly, but you're beautiful to me." I closed my eyes and let his shaky but beautiful voice fill my ears.
"Are you thinking of me? Like I'm thinking of you. I would say I'm sorry, but I really need to go."
I was too weak. I felt my breathing becoming more and more restricted and I could feel my body becoming numb and lifeless. I felt something warm fall out of the corner of my eye and brushed it with my finger. A tear? I placed my tear stained finger to my fathers lips and breathed my last words...
"Look daddy... I'm crying." I smiled softly before letting the darkness take over and left my body for the last time.
*hey guys this was just a little idea I had while I was at work :) I hope you liked it. It was hard to write having a lump in my throat and all but I hope it was worth it keep reading and rate and review?
Thank you~ T xoxo*