《Splattered Paint - Dan Howell》Hope
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I lay on the solid concrete floor, praying death would save me from the hellish nightmare I found myself stuck in. No-one would ever find me and it would just be a matter of weeks before my own starvation ended my life. Suffering would scratch at my limbs, burn my stomach and faze my mind. I couldn't bear another day of insanity, hunger, and pain. I desired the night in which I would close my eyes to sleep and they would never open and that I would never have to wake to gray walls and beatings.
The steel door swung open and the man stood tall, towering over me as he always would. On occasion I would beg him to stop, or try to avoid his punches aimed at my weak body. This time, however, I was determined to have my way.
The dominant male lunged at me, but I rolled to the side and stood up quickly. My kidnapper's eyes widened in shock, irises darkening with anger like a teased bull. My knees trembled with fear, legs threatening to give way beneath me. This time I had made him mad and surely he would kill me. I was counting down the seconds in anticipation, saying my last hateful goodbyes to the world.
"Fucking bitch" he spat and in a matter of seconds he had pinned me against the wall, punches aimed at my chest and stomach. His actions only got stronger, the pain increasing and a blood curdling scream erupted from my lungs. I felt my ribs being crushed, his grip on my neck getting tighter and tighter. My breathing was becoming limited, lungs deprived of oxygen.
Past the body of the muscled man beating me, and down the hallway, I could see the clear blue sky, decorated with small patches of white. The corners of my lips rose, a faint smile appearing on my face as I admired the beautiful view.
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The abuse came to a halt, the devil giving me a look of pure confusion in response to my change in emotion so suddenly, obviously confused as to why I was experiencing joy in a moment of such pain.
As the man leaned in to punch me again, I lifted my knee and kicked him hard in the crotch, a sudden adoration for the universe swaying my confidence. My neck was released from the strong grip and I took a large intake of breath. The man swore and bent over in pain and I hurriedly grabbed the rag from the floor beside me, my chest throbbing as I did so. The man hadn't noticed me, and with an idea in my mind I brought the rag to his head, tying it around his neck. His hands grabbed mine in attempt to stop me but I stomped him in the crotch again and he let go. I pulled the ends of the rag tightly, the man's face turned purple, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
With hope starting to rise within me, my focus becoming temporarily distracted, the male lifted his arm, connecting it with mine and pulling me down on the ground beside him. He gasped for air when the rag loosened from his neck and fell to the floor innocently.
I shook my head in disbelief, my hope fading and heart sinking. But then I noticed, down in front of the door was a small plate with some bread on it, a glass with murky water on the side. I had another idea.
As the man tried standing up, I scrambled backwards to the door and picked up the plate. I let the bread fall to the ground but before I could make my move, strong hands gripped my hair and pulled me up to face the devil himself. I screamed in pain and made eye contact with the figure holding all dominance, his yellow teeth being displayed as he chuckled at my expression. He let me go, laughing at me lying hopelessly on the ground again.
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He lunged down at me once more but I stood and in one quick motion, smashed the plate hard on his head, pieces of the multi-coloured china flying in every direction. He fell to the ground in front of me, eyes shut.
I frantically stood up before locating the rag and tightened it around his neck once more, this time pulling it harder and faster in case he became conscious. Within seconds, when it appeared he had stopped breathing, I stood back, heart thumping uncontrollably in my chest.
I was alive.
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Mehrya My Version
A love story revolve around two love birds and their family feud with their daily activities
8 176THE WAY OF FAITH
She has a good family background and has never been violently abused. Why does a double personality appear at the age of 12? "Are you there? It happened again today..." Her "she" listened silently, "Everything is mortal chaos and stupid." "...It's here again..., this feeling." At the age of 14, manic depression came to her and she began to break down. "Child. Come back." Who was speaking to her? "Come home." Who are you?Or...just, Where are you……?
8 170Beautifully Broken
"I'm fine," I state rather bluntly."You don't look fine.""Then stop looking."He chuckles, and damn does he. His voice is dessert for the ears, his face is candy for the eyes. If I wasn't so pissed off I might've swooned over him. "How can I? When an angel is so close to me," He smirks.I fully turn myself towards him this time."Were you there? That night?" I have to know before I think about him in the light any longer. "No." He doesn't even hesitate, "But my father was,""If I may ask, what in the hell prompted him to take my brother from a car accident?"He plasters on a tight-lipped grin, a small tick in his chin. "That's the thing, Hermosa, that night was everything but an accident."(Beautiful) ---This is a small intercept from Beautifully Broken. If you decided to read it I hope you enjoy!
8 450In His Office
Someone cleared his throat behind me. My laughter died instantly. I turned and saw Mr. Ashton standing there."Come to my office Ms Rose NOW!!", he shouted.Everyone scattered to their work stations and I went to his office. He was sitting in his chair looking hot as ever. You should not be thinking that right now Emily! His green blue eyes looking at me with an emotion I couldn't pinpoint. Annoyance , disbelief or humor."Close the door", he shouted and I flinched with the harshness of his words.I was 100 percent sure that my job was at stake. You are dead Emily Rose.
8 121Red Strings And Markers
Whatever mark you get on your skin, your soul mate gets it too.Marinette would love to draw all over herself to see who her soul mate is, but due to her alternate persona, Ladybug, her red strings of fate have tied her to Chat Noir. As Chat Noir, Adrien would love to find out who his Lady is so they could be happy both in and out of cover.But their kwami only allow them to use their markers after an Akuma attack and never throughout the day.Will the two go against their kwami's and go find each other, or will they remain in a world of ignorance?Together forever, never apart, maybe in distance, but never in heart.Includes mild strong language, sexual references and themes. August 25, 2017 ranked #161 in fanfiction!Cover done by the wonderful @Infinite_Writer01
8 161The Silence Within
Within her was the rising wave of memories, bowling over in violent tides, trying to crash through the barrier she had built over the years. She could feel the force that shook the restraints, leaving her almost breathless. She won't let it happen. The bang intensified, shaking and nearly spilling. She held back, pushed back, her fist tightening. What roared inside her was the need to breakdown and the need to remember a dark past.
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