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Story

can someone plz mark my story

An interesting offer (35 marks)

Thump! “Where am I?” I fell helplessly, digging my overgrown nails into my scalp. My head was throbbing, as if I had been struck mercilessly with all one’s might. An excruciating pain caused me to clench my fists, whilst listening to the uncomfortable sound of my teeth, grinding against each other. I sat there in defeat.

“No!” I managed to stutter under my heavy breathing. My heart was pounding out of my chest, desperately attempting to escape its prison. Cold sweat dripped down my body, like water would from a melting icicle. “Where am I?” I felt discombobulated, realizing I was in my room, only it was as dark as night; a hypothermic shiver surrounded me in captivity. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning, as I had an uncanny feeling I was being watched.

I tried to scream but to my disappointment, I failed miserably so sitting there I begged for help. (It was no use)

Her darkly, disfigured face -inches from mine. The peculiarity of her unfamiliar, yet well-known presence, altered my brain chemistry. Fear turned to bewilderment, whilst my ice-cold tears ran dry, staring into her face. Her features began to unravel one by one: heart-shaped lips, soft hazel eyes and a sharp jawline. At first, I stared -puzzled. “Who was she? Could this be deja vu?” My muscles tensed up once again, perceiving her identity.

It was her.

She made me do it, like I was a puppet whose strings were at her fingertips. I was weak. Tolerating the prolonged abuse of selfish, self-centered bullies, that caused my capricious self to snap. I regret what I did. Attempting to tell them it wasn’t me, left me melancholy, as no one believed me. (No one ever did) Even when she wasn’t around so why was I so distraught? As much as I blamed her, she was the only source of light I discovered, in the depths of darkness. At first, I was just a soda can, being kicked around. Now I least feel human. The endless torment of these malicious monsters-yet I was to blame. For months I was labelled a monster, hating myself, however now I comprehend it as a clear mystification. Maybe we criminals/monsters aren’t just broken people, maybe we’re the victims: the ones who chose to live rather than thrive, the ones who chose to fight back, rather than live as an unnoticeable victim.

She was the enemy I fought, only to realize she was my only friend. I could feel my body regaining its energy, whilst wrapping my hands around her and burying my face into her shoulders- shedding my last tears. Loosening my grip, I made my way to the mirror, wiping the tears of my hazel eyes.

“So what do you say?” She asked, holding out her hand. A smile cracked across my severely chapped, heart-shaped lips.