Your smile was so sinister, so seductive, so mine. I hate you, yet I can never leave you. You keep me locked up yet I never try to leave. You've twisted my mind, my body, my soul. You have twisted me into an image of you, a sick, twisted, poorly formed image of you. You told me they would never come. You lied. They came, but you killed them while I was forced to watch. You killed my family, my friends, my angels, my saviors. I watched them fall, crumble, and break. I heard them call out for me. They screamed, they cried, they whispered with their last dying breath. One voice stood out from the rest, for I had never heard the sorrow and the pain from which my name was screamed, the last voice of my family, the strongest one.

You crushed them, you broke them, it was the first time they had ever failed. You left them where they fell, broken, mangled, dead. You left me there looking at them, staring at them for days. I started out screaming, then screaming and crying, then just crying when my voice ran out. Until the day everything just stopped. The tears, the hurt, the sorrow, the anger, the grief, the torment, it all just stopped. I stared ahead not seeing; it was almost as if the world around me had vanished.

That was when you came for me; you grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up, only to throw me against the wall. You hold me there, staring at me like I'm going to suddenly disappear. You nod your head as if you found something you were looking for. You let me go, and I slide back to the ground, eyes never leaving your covered face. I watch you as you move to unlock the chain around my wrists, you crouch down to unlock my ankles and I reach towards you.

You grab my hand so fast, I didn't see you move. You squeeze it until I feel the bones grating against one another, but I feel no pain. We both hear the snap and crack as you break my wrist. You look at me and I can see your eyes, your cold grey eyes, the color of storm clouds, staring at me with pure hate, and absolutely no remorse for my family or my wrist. You stand and take a step back. I watch you, watch to see if you will do anything but you just stare at me, as if trying to see what I will do. So I try to crawl to my family, try to save them even though I know them to be dead. Crawling forward is hard, my wrist keeps giving out, but I manage to shuffle forward a about a foot, before you move in front of me.

I think this is your way of telling me I'm not allowed to go to them, but I don't care. I want to see them, I want to be with them, I want to die with them. As I move to go around you, your foot lifts and kicks me in the ribs. I'm thrown to the side and I land hard, crushing my wrist more and hitting my head. I get up, I'm not going to let you stop me, so I start forward again, but you move in front of me again, only to kick me down again. We follow this routine until I can hardly pick myself up off the ground anymore. I can't feel the pain, but my body knows the damage that it's taking. As I move to get up once again, you grab my hair and haul me up until you can look me in the face.

You grab my face with the hand not wrapped in my hair, and hold it in a crushing grip, you pull me close, and start laughing, the louder you get the tighter your grip becomes until you throw me again the wall where I had been chained, I hit the wall with such a force that I can hear my damaged ribs breaking, I can feel the air leaving my body, I can feel as my lungs struggle to expand and let the air back in. I ignore all of this, and slowly rise to me feet; I can see you walking away, walking away from me and everything you have done as if it doesn't matter. So I follow you, I think you know that I am, I think you want me too, but what you don't know is what I will do next.

I grab you by the shoulder and spin you around until you are facing me. I back you against the wall, knowing the whole time you are letting me do this, because I don't have the strength too. When I have you against the wall, I reach up and remove your cover, hoping to discover the face behind the cruelness that has been happening around me. The face that stares back at me is one I know very well, so well in fact that I'm sure I am dreaming. The face staring back at me is my own. I close my eyes to see if I am just seeing things that are not there. When I open my eyes again, I see that there is no one in front of me. I look around sure that you have tried to sneak away, only to discover that I am completely alone. I look down at myself and realize that I am wearing your cloths; I can see the blood stains that I got on your shirt. I walk back into the room that I was chained to only to see that the chains are not empty. No, they hold my family, my friends, my angels. That's when the memories come rushing back. I was never chained up, I was never forced to watch them die, I was the one that killed them.

It was me the whole time.

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