"Dark Thoughts Collection" drabbles by Frenchie
First Blood.
The Dark Thoughts Collection #7
She can’t remember the first time she did or why.
Every time the blade sliced into her skin, she winced at the pain but it was nothing compared to the pain in her tortured mind.
Hidden in her room, safe from a world she didn’t understand, she stood alone, mesmerised by the crimson rivulets slithering down her arms.
For every cut, one word left unsaid. She kept cutting, mechanically, until she could feel no more. Then she cleaned herself and rolled down her sleeves.
The first time but alas, not the last.
So young, so hard on herself. Why? Why?
Sixty seconds...
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Sixty seconds. Maybe less. It is all what I have to make the decision.
I've trained hard for this moment. Months of desperate preparations. No one realised my real intent, saw the death wish in my eyes.
When I reach terminal velocity, I'll choose between opening the chute or letting go. I left the AAD on the plane, nobody was watching.
I wonder if it will hurt when my body hits the ground. Will I be like a broken doll, my limbs scattered to the four winds, the earth hungrily soaking my blood?
Forty seconds...I've to make the decision now.
The storm.
Dark Thoughts Collection
The day went black without warning. A storm is brewing. I can feel its violence bubbling, ready to destroy everything in its path. The wind is gathering momentum, ripping apart all what's in its wake. I taste its lust for death. Such a raging storm hasn't been seen in my hopeless monochrome world for ages.
This is my storm, birthing in my mind. You, people will be safe from it but I've to find my anchor fast or I'll be swept along not knowing where I'll end up. Perhaps a little closer to the edge. Perhaps too close this time.
Game over
Dark Thoughts Collection
I hurt so much tonight that I run to that dark place of mine once more. Where light cannot go through. Where hope dies before being born. I thought I was free of that place. I nearly believed in happiness. But I stand alone again, in the island of my despair. Rocking back and forward, I advance further into the more sinister recesses of my mind. Always further. Far away, I hear my name being called by that loving voice I longed to hear so many times. But it's too late. I won't be brought back. Game over for me.
The journey North... 2
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Onlookers watched from across the road. The house, totally ablaze looked like a giant night brazier.
'The Reverend was home tonight,' someone shouted.
The firemen looked at each other in horror. The fire spread so fast there was no way anyone could go into the house.
They worked hard but this fire seemed to be fuelled by the bellows of Hell. The crowd gasped in horror and fascination as strange dark shapes danced in the flames before vanishing into nothingness.
No one noticed a small silhouette slipping away in the darkness, the box of matches still clutched in her hand.
The bottle...
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The bottle is empty. No matter how I look at it, it's empty. I turn it upside down but not one drop is left. Maybe I should have bought two, but I didn't have enough change. I am now half drunk, trying to forget what I can't remember. I wish I had a drinking buddy, but then again, the bottle would have been empty faster. A buddy to remind me I've gone mad.
But it's only a dream.
I wake up in the same metal cot with the same solitary bulb dangling from the ceiling. Locked in my cell, forever.
Into the abyss...
The Dark Thoughts Collection
What is more to say? when you have no faith left, what do you do? What is the point of carrying on that long dark road that does not go anywhere?
I am looking into the abyss. Bereft of everything. The smile is gone, the tears have long dried. There is nothing left in me to carry me to tomorrow. A fool I have lived, a fool I will die.
I have no reason this time, not to jump.
Tell me why, then, I still hesitate, hoping against all hope that someone may call my name, just one last time?
One step at a time
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Have you ever walked along a precipice?
It's how I walk now, careful not to look down, I'm walking the thin line between sanity and insanity. Or maybe I'm already mad. The voices in my head are back, incessant in the background. I don't know what they're saying but I know I've to carry on, one step at a time. If I fall, there is no one to catch me. Long is the drop, I can see my broken body on the rocks below, but I go on, one foot in front of the other, leaving my bleeding self behind.
The journey North.. 1
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There are many evils in this world that decent people don't know about. While they sleep blissfully unaware at night, the Devil's minions are plotting against their lives.
The scar on my arm is on fire. I know they are aware of me, since the High Priest's death. Before, I managed to stay off the grid but no more.
My thoughts drift to the girls from the research facility. I wonder if they stayed free or have been recaptured.
Somehow, if I want to survive, I'll need them. I pull my face veil down and start the long journey North.
First strike back... 2
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As the fire intensifies, a shadows steals from the burning house. The High Priest. I take after him, easing the gun from my waistband. He stops abruptly, faces me, carefully avoiding my gaze.
'You won't do it', he said, pointing to the gun.
He's right. I don't have what it takes. I'm not a cold blooded executioner. But I call on the scarred little girl buried deeply within myself, striving, thirsty for vengeance.
It is her who takes aim, her who empties the barrel, her who kicks him savagely when he's down, but it's me who retches in the snow.
First strike back... 1
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Hidden in the darkness, I am at the unholy place where I spent the first twelve years of my miserable life. The little church, its cross upside down. I have that mark on my arm. They raised me as the Devil's bride, but I escaped. I trace the long scar running down my chest, where they tried to cut my heart. I feel anger bubbling inside me, but I have to keep a blank mind, not to alert them. They pledged me to the Master of the Fire. It's only fitting they die by it. I strike the first match.
Reprieve...
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I discard my clothes and get into the river. It feels good, its freezing water cleansing me from the filth of the last few days. I catch my reflection under the moonlight. So young, yet so old inside. Happiness and innocence brutally torn away from me long ago, it shows. If you knew my story, you would weep all the tears I cannot shed. I am a mal born, life has dealt me a lousy hand. I've never known kindness. I wish I could die, the water carrying me into oblivion. But not tonight.
Tomorrow, I've some scores to settle.
The beast in me... 5/5
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They are coming. Like a trapped animal, I cower in the corner of my cell. I am always their first choice. With the last of my strength, I dive into my mind, willing my anger to wake up. Nothing.
Panic sets in, I won't survive another night of degradation.
Suddenly, I feel it. The beast in me is finally waking up. I rise, anger surging forth, like a hurricane destroying all in its wake. I realise my anger is alive, growing, feeding of me. I feel its power. I just have time to remember not to harm the other patients.
The summon... 4/5
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They've put me in a padded cell. I am heavily sedated but I am fighting it. You don't know what's happening in the women's wing at night. We are easy pickings, and sometimes, they even bring in strangers and sell us to the highest bidder. Even my sight cannot protect me, because they do it in the dark, that you can't identify them later.
But no more. Twice in less than 24hrs, I summon my anger. I can feel it, but it is very weak. In a desperate effort, I try harder.
And again.
I'm running out of time, fast.
Into his eyes... 3/5
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Another place, another time. Same doctors.
'So', he said, 'according to my notes, you destroyed an entire village because you were angry and you won't look at me because you think I'll die?''
His belly laugh grates me. I nod but resist the urge to look at him. Something snapped in me yesterday. Because of this, innocent people died. I feel scum. I am always careful not to hurt the innocents.
'Take her back to her cell', he can't speak for laughing.
He shouldn't have mocked me. Deliberately, I turn and look straight into his eyes.
He reeled back, aghast.
Destruction... 2/5
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Kneeling, back straight, arms making the sign of the cross, head tilted, I wake up from a long trance.Tears of blood in my eyes, I look up and a scene of apocalypse greets me. Buildings reduced to rabbles, trees torn from their roots, dead people all around. Gaps in the ground. In the red sky, vultures fly low. I reach into my smouldering mind and hear nothing. No voices. And somehow, I know I am responsible for this senseless destruction. In an unguarded moment, I have unleashed my frustration upon the world around me.
Madness has claimed me, at last.
Burning eyes.. 1/5
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They dragged me to countless psychologists. 'The girl doesn't look at people in the eye,' they would say.
One day, a foolish doctor forced me to look at him. Later, he was found dead. From unknown causes but it is said he had a look of abject terror on his face.
Another time, the doctor was found hanged in her room. They never connected the deaths to me. Because they don't know I have so much hatred and untamed anger that it's like an evil maelstrom behind my eyes, consuming me.
Don't make me look at you.
Or you'll die.
Paranoia...
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They are all around me. I hear them whisper, pointing at me. They never stop. They watch my every move. They invade my sleep, I have no peace. I don't go out anymore, I find no safety in crowds. I can't sleep, I'm exhausted. I don't bother to wash or to dress. Curled up in a ball in a corner of my room, I take the last puff of my cigarette, drag the last of the stale wine and look up the rope dangling from the ceiling.
As I pull the noose tightly around my neck, they watch, silent vigils.
Pyromania...
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Since I was a tiny tot, I love playing with fire. Fire to me is like a lover when its warmth coils all around me, teases my senses. I know it's wrong, but fire holds over me a morbid fascination. I need my fix every so often, when I can't control the urges any longer. I always chose my targets carefully, I don't want to hurt anyone. But tonight, as I strike the first match, I feel pulled into the hell I created and while I trash and scream, part of me wonders if I'll be reborn from my ashes.
Madness...
Dark Thoughts Collection
Am I losing my mind? I always hear two voices, they are real, they speak to me. One is the bully, dark, always tells me to do things that I don't want to do. The other voice, softer, is my friend. Preventing me from madness. The dark voice invades my mind, hurts me because as long as I can hear the other voice, it knows I won't go over the edge. But this morning, my friendly voice has been strangely silent. And for many long hours, I can feel the abyss pulling me in. Slowly but surely, I'll go mad.
