Love Like Cyanide
There's Nothing To Fear But Fear Itself...Bullshit
My heart thumped heavily in my chest. I didn't speak, afraid I might say something that wouldn't be acceptable to someone so drunk.
If there was one thing I knew about a drunken man, it was that they were dangerous. It's an obvious fact. One you could learn from movies...or a hateful mother.
Derrik's face was blank for a few minutes until it brightened and his lips curled up into the most unattractive smile.
"Mary, Mary, quite contrary," he sang drunkenly, "how does your garden grow?" He moved closer to me. I mirrored his movement by taking a step back. I swallowed hard.
"With silver bells and cockle shells," he continued as I recognized the nursery rhyme. The one about Queen Mary - or as some call Bloody Mary - and how she killed hundreds of Protestants.
Derrik jerked forward quickly all of a sudden and caught my wrist in his grip. He squeezed it tightly like a tourniquet. With his other hand he took the lamp on the nearest table and smashed it to the floor, getting rid of the only light in the house.
"And pretty maids all in a row."
I cried out. “S-Stop!”
He chuckled. “No, I don’t think so, Kathryn. I’m not letting you go this time.”
“You’re drunk!” I shouted, kicking him in the groin. He moaned and bent over. I gasped and ran in the opposite direction, not really knowing where I’d end up. I didn’t exactly know the house well enough to be playing some kind of hide and seek game.
Hide and seek. That’s what this was.
I stumbled blindly through the pitch black house. I could hear Derrik chasing after me, grunting when he gripped the empty air instead of my shirt.
At the end of the hallway I opened the door to my right, ran in, and slammed it shut just in time to hit Derrik in the face.
He yelled and pounded on the door. My breathing was hitched and unnatural as I backed away slowly. I looked around myself, as if I'd find something useful in a situation as such.
This was a room I had never been in before. There was no artwork on the walls like in all the other rooms. It was painted a dark color. There was a couch that looked like it had never been touched. In the corner sat a desk with a neat stack of blank papers on it. Desperate, I went over a searched the drawers for something, anything.
"KATHRYN!" Derrik shouted through the inch thick wooden door. The pounding pattern got slower but harder. There was no doubt he'd be able to break past in little time.
With shaking hands I pulled open the skinniest drawer. There was only a pen. I guess I could have used that and plunged it into his throat if he got close enough.
The next two drawers were empty. I was losing faith in everything until I opened the last drawer.
A gun.
My hands quivered so bad I could barely reach in and pull it out. Would I really shoot Derrik? I thought to myself. Yes. If it came down to that. To save myself, I would.
And with that the door burst open. I didn't even lock it, I remembered. Some drunk he was.
"You've been a naughty girl, Kat," Derrik slurred, sauntering forward.
I held up the gun, aiming right at his head. That stopped him dead in his tracks.
It was silent except for the thumping and thudding of my heart.
His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. He took a hesitant step forward.
I cocked the gun and spoke through my teeth. "Make one move toward me and I'll blow your head off."
"Well, well," was all he said. "This changes things, don't it?" He was close enough that he was able to bring his arm up quickly and knock the gun out of my shaking grip. I gasped.
He then pulled me into his chest. His arms locked around me tightly like iron bars in a cage. There was no way I was struggling myself out of this. I could see that the gun was by my feet. If only I could reach it.
"Try to cooperate," Derrik breathed in my face. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. My face wrinkled in disgust.
Slowly his hands trailed down my waist and began lifting my shirt. I held my breath, knowing what would come next.
If there was one thing I knew about a drunken man, it was that they were dangerous. It's an obvious fact. One you could learn from movies...or a hateful mother.
Derrik's face was blank for a few minutes until it brightened and his lips curled up into the most unattractive smile.
"Mary, Mary, quite contrary," he sang drunkenly, "how does your garden grow?" He moved closer to me. I mirrored his movement by taking a step back. I swallowed hard.
"With silver bells and cockle shells," he continued as I recognized the nursery rhyme. The one about Queen Mary - or as some call Bloody Mary - and how she killed hundreds of Protestants.
Derrik jerked forward quickly all of a sudden and caught my wrist in his grip. He squeezed it tightly like a tourniquet. With his other hand he took the lamp on the nearest table and smashed it to the floor, getting rid of the only light in the house.
"And pretty maids all in a row."
I cried out. “S-Stop!”
He chuckled. “No, I don’t think so, Kathryn. I’m not letting you go this time.”
“You’re drunk!” I shouted, kicking him in the groin. He moaned and bent over. I gasped and ran in the opposite direction, not really knowing where I’d end up. I didn’t exactly know the house well enough to be playing some kind of hide and seek game.
Hide and seek. That’s what this was.
I stumbled blindly through the pitch black house. I could hear Derrik chasing after me, grunting when he gripped the empty air instead of my shirt.
At the end of the hallway I opened the door to my right, ran in, and slammed it shut just in time to hit Derrik in the face.
He yelled and pounded on the door. My breathing was hitched and unnatural as I backed away slowly. I looked around myself, as if I'd find something useful in a situation as such.
This was a room I had never been in before. There was no artwork on the walls like in all the other rooms. It was painted a dark color. There was a couch that looked like it had never been touched. In the corner sat a desk with a neat stack of blank papers on it. Desperate, I went over a searched the drawers for something, anything.
"KATHRYN!" Derrik shouted through the inch thick wooden door. The pounding pattern got slower but harder. There was no doubt he'd be able to break past in little time.
With shaking hands I pulled open the skinniest drawer. There was only a pen. I guess I could have used that and plunged it into his throat if he got close enough.
The next two drawers were empty. I was losing faith in everything until I opened the last drawer.
A gun.
My hands quivered so bad I could barely reach in and pull it out. Would I really shoot Derrik? I thought to myself. Yes. If it came down to that. To save myself, I would.
And with that the door burst open. I didn't even lock it, I remembered. Some drunk he was.
"You've been a naughty girl, Kat," Derrik slurred, sauntering forward.
I held up the gun, aiming right at his head. That stopped him dead in his tracks.
It was silent except for the thumping and thudding of my heart.
His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to the side. He took a hesitant step forward.
I cocked the gun and spoke through my teeth. "Make one move toward me and I'll blow your head off."
"Well, well," was all he said. "This changes things, don't it?" He was close enough that he was able to bring his arm up quickly and knock the gun out of my shaking grip. I gasped.
He then pulled me into his chest. His arms locked around me tightly like iron bars in a cage. There was no way I was struggling myself out of this. I could see that the gun was by my feet. If only I could reach it.
"Try to cooperate," Derrik breathed in my face. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. My face wrinkled in disgust.
Slowly his hands trailed down my waist and began lifting my shirt. I held my breath, knowing what would come next.
♠ ♠ ♠
Wow! Sorry, everybody! Long time no see, eh? I thought it'd be nice to surprise everyone with a new chapter (and new layout!).So here's the deal: When I write a lot, I don't draw. When I draw a lot, I don't write. I can't have both, and lately I've been drawing and improving my style. If you want to see what I've been drawing you can go to my gallery on Deviantart here. (I like drawing story characters, so if you go to my page regularly you might see a picture of my LLC characters.)