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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1409716-011
by 65days
Rated: 13+ · Novella · Death · #1409716
This is the story of a girl and how love turns her insane.

This was it.
The sun peered lazily through the trees, illuminating the ground, flickering slightly beneath her footsteps. Maybe the sounds of the busy high street would've been more obvious, had it not been for her music humming loudly, distancing her from the world.
Alexis, a young athletic girl. A firm body holstered on a solid frame, sleek, long brown hair dancing above the bridge of her back. Electric blue eyes pierce her fringe as it dangles lazily in front of her face. School books poised against her chest like a mother with a baby. A shoulder bag hanging from her shoulder swaying in tune with her footsteps.
“Not long now” she murmured to herself.

Quickly she picked up pace and drifted around the corner on to a simple looking street. This was it, the pain grew too much for her. Slightly hunched she admired the environment as she gained momentum. Rows of houses, symmetrical, standing at attention. Prim cut grass, perfect looking bushes. Narcissus plants looming in cell shaded planters clinging to ledges. The simple urban semi-detached houses had an intimidating innocence. The sun, now waltzing through the clouds reflected off the windows, a blinding sight. She strolled up to one of the clones and fumbled through her pockets for her keys. A couple simple moves and she was in.

She slipped out of her shoes and a marched through the long corridor, dragging her hand against the pale white decor. Every other step she would drop more items, her bag, her books, her belt. She broke into a run up the stairs and entered the bathroom. There she perched in front of the mirror, hovering over the sink. Her head drooped and her eyes closed. For what seemed like an eternity she stood there clinging on to the sink her face now scrunching. Abruptly her legs fold in on her, plunging her to the floor, groping her stomach in pain and whimpering as she lays, she peels back her shirt which stuck to her front only to reveal a mess of blood.
“Shit...”she whispers
Her stitches had re-opened. Not to serious but annoying none the least. Valiantly she dragged her self from the floor using the door handle and the closest faucet to her.

Sliding her trousers down she reveals brilliantly crafted curves. Extruding from the thighs was a healthy mass of muscle and down to her calf's was pure white, the pale skin glowing brightly in the afternoon sun. Removing her top proved to be a feat not to steep, she removed it via her head and gazed in the mirror at herself. What she saw wasn't hard on the eyes. The same paleness covered the rest of her body, From the tip of her pelvis the the crink of her neck. Her breasts perky and round, suspended without a crease. No matter her underwear did not match, only one person sees it and he doesn't mind. With one hand un-clipping her bra and the other switching on the shower,  she shuffled from her breeches and stepped into the steaming chamber.

At first she was very un-comfortable, gently she tried pushing the blood from her open wound, but no avail. She grabbed the nearest bottle and squeezed a generous helping into her palms. She began spreading the soapy substance on to her legs, no friction at all, smooth and soft. She worked her way up her body till she was completely lathered in the substance, messaging every nook and crink, letting the soap get washed away into the void that lay beneath her. She was in bliss. Complete relaxation, all her worries, all her doubts, washed away as she lathered an rinsed. The blood had stopped flowing, she was finishing her duties and turned of the shower. She reached out to grab a towel then covered herself.

On closer inspection you could see the numerous scars littering her back and stomach, some aged very well, some still very distinct but still not quite obvious. She'd have to be posing quite close to you with a hight cut top so you would notice. The most noticeable of course is the gaping hole in on her stomach. She sat upon the toilet seat and pulled a box from a cupboard under the sink, resting it on her knees and leaning back sharply on the toilet so her back was inverted. Rifling through the box she found some needles and thread. Cautiously threading the needle she began to repair the wound, gently curving the thread through the sensitive skin and pulling it closed. After some time she replaced the box and moved through the hall into her room.

It was a small room. Kind of bland, pictures drape the pale walls. Her bed (which lay lazily in the corner, too small to be the center piece and too big to be insignificant) was a pale blue, astonishingly neat and flat, it looked almost solid. Amongst most of the drawers and wardrobes some clothes sat in uncompromising places. Alexis trotted over to one of the wardrobes and creaked it open, then removed some simple pieces of clothing. After moments of fiddling and pain as she tried to slip a top on she now wasn't the essence of beauty she once was. With these efforts out of the way she sat on her bed and picked up the book which lay next to it. “The Girl of His Dreams by Donna Leon”  a book she had been reading for days now. She was hooked on the grimy spectacular story of heart-wrenching crime drama. She lay her head to bask in the sunlight as she read. But the day had taken it's toll and she fell into a drowsy bliss and slowly shut her eyes.

* * *

The initial screech of the phone wasn't as obvious to her. She could hear it, but maybe it was simply a dream or in fact just a play in her mind. Alexis stirred to the loud cracking of the telephone. After one or two minutes it stopped, silence lain like a sheet. After a couple of seconds the reality dawned on her.
“Shit, that must have been him” She tampered as she lent forward rubbing her head. The phone buzzed a second time, this time not as loud. She reached for the receiver and pulled it to her ear.

Yes this is her speaking.

No I haven't seen him either.

Why do you..?


Oh yes, I will tell him if I see him.


She replaced the handset and leaned back on her pillow. Glancing over to the clock she had a revelation.
“It's nearly time” She dictated in her head.
Quickly becoming mobile she stood and walked downstairs. Her hands sweeping over the banister as she crept, the kitchen was nice for it's size. A masterpiece of a cooker lay in the top right corner and a sink strew across a wide preparation area. The dining table that could easily accommodate 9 persons sat valiantly in the middle, covered in a simple white cloth and housed a small collection of papers. Alexis has been set on finishing her medical courses for a few years now. Her biology, physiology and psychology were all up to scratch. But she was still very under trained in the botany fields.
She rummaged through the fridge to quench herself and pulled out numerous products, arranging them in piles of effectiveness.

After purging her hunger she heard the door go. She bolted around with a face of glee, not being able to run yet but being able to pace she moved quickly towards the door. Her heart was racing.
“It's him, it's him” she chanted mentally, her face going red.
She unlocked it with high hopes, slowly dragging it towards her, only to be met with the face of a man in uniform.
“Hello, I have a package for you.”
Her face dropped and her heart slowed.
“Sign here please”
She clutched the pen tightly obviously getting frustrated by the situation. She scribbles her signature onto the paper.
“Thank you for using DPURS delivery.”
He turned to leave and wondered down the path. She scanned the area nervously for a moment still chanting in her head. Admitting her defeat she closed the door and ventured into the living room.
“At least one thing turned up on time” She chuckled
The box was small, rectangular and boring to look at. She carefully removed some of the tape and flapped it open. She removed the contents.

A beautiful leather bound box lay before her eyes, sealed only with an aged key lock, embossed in gold. She clicked open and what was in there shimmered before her. A set of solid silver scalpels. Obviously only for decoration or perhaps award from a medical school, but not for Alexis, they had a deeper, darker meaning. This was her second set, she couldn't quite remember what she did with the first. A wide grim broadened across her face.

“This is just what I needed.”

Still in tatters of clothes she scrambled around for her coat, grabbed her keys and stuffed the box in a bag. Hastily she left the door, locking it and ventured onto the street. For thirty minutes she weaved and writhed through bits of road and alleys. It was getting dark now, she could taste the moisture in the air. The sun moved sheepishly below the horizon and was nowhere to be found. It was getting late. The dancing lights that fluttered in the sky were growing less distinct. The moon nearly at full bright, dominated the surrounding clouds. The blistering cold creeped up on Alexis, catching her by surprise. She grabbed her arms and tried to repel the feeling, shivering she arrived at an old abandoned hospital.

The weathered, decrepid building stood magnificently behind an infinity of weeds and flowers. Boasting 4 stories and a missing roof, the building had suffered a significant amount of damage over the years. Glass and debris scattered the surroundings. Stood like guards, was a garden of aged statues, most biblical, reciting some key points in the biblical history, they towered over Alexis as she wondered without a care through the courtyard. She stood before a door which seemed to hold omnipotence over her insignificant being, engraved with swirls and silver outlines (which most had been pulled off and probably sold) She turned the handle and floated in.

She endured the great hall. Papers littered the scene. The ceiling unstable, creaked as she wallowed through slalom of debris. The echoing of her shoes clanked against the laminated floor and wind rushed through the controversies of the halls. Great prodigious ceilings boasted crystal chandeliers, or what used to be their home as the remains of the chandeliers lay strewn across the floor. She reached an old staircase, it splintered and missed steps. The strong smell of mold flooded the whole lower quarters of the complex. Paintings, that once would have told a thousand stories to the thousands of patients, laid defeated amongst the havoc of the stairs. She weeded her way up the stairs to the second, third, fourth floor.

There she stood. The rain hitting hard against the remains of the hall. Aisles of old chambers sat consecutively. Each chamber was guarded with heavy duty doors, housing miniature windows of re-enforced glass. Now drenched she fiddled with a loop of keys and mumbled eradically. Trying not to lose her footing on the wet floor she ended up at a cell at the far end. The door had been recently been cleaned and had the number 011 branded to the door. The putrid smell of mold still loomed even though the floor had no ceiling. She inserted the key and heard a heavy thunk as the door unlocked. She persisted on the door and it swung open, half of the ceiling laid on the floor. The stench grew more fearsome like a wave it attacked her nostrils but she did not seem to mind. Puddles formed in random areas of the room. The room was a good size, you could park at least two cars side by side and still have room to open the doors. The light was heavily divided, half the room was flooded with light and the back was pitch black. It was endless, but something stirred. It was obvious.

In the light section of the room a single chair sat facing the endlessness. Alexis moved over and settled down. Rain still pelting her from a diagonal angle. Blue in the face and shivering violently she dropped the bag to the floor and stared into the void.
“I came back” she whispered into the darkness.
“I know you can hear me, I can see you moving.”
Rats scuttled from their shelter and fled through the door.
“I brought you some things” She lifted the bag and rummaged through.
“I know you like reading” her voice muffled by the bag.
“I brought you this book I've been reading. It's about a detective, you like those kinds of stories.” She placed the book at her feet. The book now too water logged to be useful to anyone, it curled whithered at the edges. She produced the box from the bag and settled it on her knees, throwing the bag to the floor and un-clipping the box.
“I want to tell you some secrets...i don't want to run anymore.”
She removed one of the blades and set the box on the floor, it started to fill with water, drowning the remainder. She rolled up her coat and top, gripping the two with her neck.
“Do you see?...See these scars?
Every one was for you.
Every incision, every slice was what got me through it.”
She ran the blade mockingly across her stomach, it left a long red trail, not deep enough to bleed.
“These halls echo stories you know. These walls have seen their share of blood. Whats a little more to taint this place?”
She ran the blade deep into her stomach, blood escaped fast. It ran down her trousers and dripped on to the floor. Her being cold was no help to the situation, the blood ran faster than she expected. Quickly making a temporary bandage from her blouse she dressed the wound.
“Do you see!...Do you see what you do to me!”
“Answer me you bastard!”
She lunged forward and collapsed into a puddle. Her blood now seeped into the water, turning it a murky brown.
Lightning flickered and for a second the room illuminated, She could see a silhouette of a person sat in the far corner, their head duped.
“You like this don't you” She spat through exasperated gasps.
“I'll do it again!”
She ran the blade into her arm and cut deeply. Blood poured to the floor and she winced in pain, bringing her knees to her chest.

“There's no one in the world that makes my heart beat as fiercely as you!”
She spluttered blood to the floor
“The love that embraces me is more than deep, pure and true, I crave and i need your love!”
She dragged the blade across the same incision on her arm.
“I protest to you, your the only one i speak of, these tears will keep streaming, collecting on my cheek!” Her eyes started to well up, the feeling of the blood rushing through her throat made her gag, she coughed the blood onto the floor.
“I need you the most, your attention is all I seek!”
She reached for the void, the lightning cracked again, once again illuminating the silhouette.
“I've gone through so much torture for you!”
She roared through clenched teeth.
“This feeling was never new, this life is pointless without you carrying me through.”
Lightning cracked again.

She gave up, she was unable to mutter another word. Thoughts came rushing through her head, voices, commanding her.
“End it”
She shivered in protest and pulled the blade to her arm once again.
“End it now, he won't care.”
Lightning cracked across the sky and she could see him in the corner. She crawled with all of her power, gripping loose tiles with her right hand. Her legs flailing around in the rain kicked the book, the top half tore and flew to the wall. Losing ability to keep her head up kept making her head plunge into puddles, choking she was ready to give up.

Not without an explanation, maybe one last kiss. She purged with all of her might and was meters away from him. The rain was just a sound under the shelter of the remaining ceiling. With every breath she swallowed dust and dirt. Scuttling noises from rats became louder. Then she could feel it, was it a shoe? The lighting cracked again and sure enough it was his shoe. She dragged herself to his side and leaned on his chest. She had lost to much blood for much else.
“Why, why don't you speak anymore?” She whimpered.
Something shone in the light of the lightning. It was within arms reach. It was the blade, still sparkling clean. No sign of blood. She reached for it, blood spilling to the floor, turning the dust crimson. Pulling the blade closer she hugged it. Keeping it in touch with herself. She peered hazily at him.
“You used to whisper me sweet lullabies, you used to be there for me.”
Images started flashing through her head. A beach, a sunset. A scarlet sunset over a calm ocean, she was at peace. Held in the arms of her one love.

Then screaming, someone protesting something. It was hazy, she couldn't quite make it out. Someone running, trying to escape something, flashing, she remembered flashing. They used to come to this hospital a lot. It was their first date, sat in the grand opening hall. The wind whispering through the drafters. Their first kiss was in this very room. It was their room. Room 011. Then it happened. She came along, took what was hers.
“The whore..” she mustered.
She remembered now. Everything, why it had all happened. She couldn't keep herself controlled. Tears fell violently, merging with the water on her clothes. She had the blade, the blade. Her sadness turned it rage, her body filled with adrenaline. She swung her arm with all of her might and plunged it deep into his chest. He didn't flinch.
And again.
She plunged and tore at his chest, not even a breath escaped. She gave up shortly. She remembers now. The screaming, the protesting. She looked at the blade, it flashed in the light. She remembered what happened to the first. She threw them away.

The lightning cracked again, she looked up. His skull glistened, her tears came more heavy. Her breathes shortening.
With her last once of strength, she smiled.
Her head drooped onto his chest, the blade slipped from her hand. The lightning cracked again and the rain fell harder.
© Copyright 2008 65days (huggybear_13 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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