OK hang on…

One last dark post … before my new bright beginning… ;) (this has been in my drafts for a while)

She led me toward the sofa, trailing at least three different scents: a flowery hair-shampoo, a fruity lotion and maybe … Vodka? She was wearing a low-cut blouse and tight jeans, with the junk jewelry of a teenager. She was one of those middle-aged women who thought they were fooling people.

 We sat there for an awkward three and a half minutes- in which she decided to light a cigarette- before she caught my eyes. Her gaze was filled with conundrum and rage… It turned my blood into ice… jagged pieces of ice pushing and slitting their way through my veins.

A minute later… I understood.

I caught a flash of metal to my right, just as she slammed an ancient ashtray into my temple, her mouth stretched wide in a frozen scream.

I could hear her feet hit the stairs, and then she was flipping me over, grabbing from my throat. I wanted her to curse at me, scream something, but she was silent, all heavy, calm breathing. Her fingers pressed into my neck. My jugular jumped, then began thumping against her thumb. I still couldn’t see. I was about to be dead. I knew it, my pulse beating faster and then way too slow. She pinned down my arms with her knees, I couldn’t move them, all I could do was kick at the floor, my feet sliding. She was breathing on my face, I could feel the heat, picture her mouth hanging open. I gave one big, twisting push beneath her, squirmed my arms free, and rammed my fist into her face. 

I connected with something, enough to knock her off me for a second, just a small bone crunch, but enough that my fist stung and then I was pulling myself across the floor, trying to find a chair, trying to goddamn see and then her hands grabbed my ankle, Not this time, sweetheart,  and she was holding my foot inside my sock but my sock was a bit too baggy and so it was harder to hold on to, the socks never fit right and suddenly I was up and left her holding my sock. I ran towards the door… And before I knew it I was out again.

Quote of the day:

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

Let’s make sure this is never forgotten… ;)

~ by Disturbed Stranger on January 13, 2011.