Ojamajo Doremi Fan Fiction ❯ You Are My Last Breath ❯ Here my story is told ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

You are my last breath

Kidnapped. Tortured. Raped.

And she wasn't even the person they'd been targeting.

Blood ran from a cut somewhere beneath her hair. More flowed from various wounds and soaked her already tattered and dirty clothes. Her pale blue eyes stared at the wall opposite her without emotion.

She didn't have anyone to save her.

She watched as another man, probably one of the few that came in daily, threw open the door to her small unlit room with anger.

She couldn't recognize anything anymore. Not people, not pain.

The pain that, had she not been so physically and emotionally numb at the time, would bring screams erupting from her raw throat.

She didn't even move when he slammed the door shut again. She could see his movements despite the lack of light, her eyes had strained against the darkness for so long that either she could sense and hear them amazingly well or she'd become able to see in the dark.

She felt a fist connect with her jaw and her entire body fell over. Limp. Numb.

She couldn't feel a thing.

Her eyes glanced up at the man. His own were crazed and angry. Hers flicked down to his hands, the tough and calloused hands of a working man. For a brief second she wondered what had brought him to doing things such as this.

She thought until a cold metal bat slammed into her stomach.

Her breath caught, her eyes widened. That pain she felt. It was excrutiating and she coughed loudly.

Blood from her mouth decorated the floor. The man smiled.

The pain dulled slightly and once again she was able to rest numb eyes upon her sad and hopeless world.

She wouldn't mind the pain so much. Or the insults thrown at her, which she couldn't hear now. She was sure someone had injured her ears to the point that everything was muffled.

But the memories. They were the worst torture.

Her mother. The woman who'd raised her. She was abusive, she'd admit that. But she was still her mum.

And then her dad. What kind of a father just watches as their daughter is taken? A debt is not something to be paid by giving up the life of another. Especially your own child.

Her friends. They were her only salvation, basically the reason she was living. They hadn't come for her, probably didn't even know she was gone. She'd never been the funniest of the group, or the prettiest. She wasn't especially talented at anything.

And then him. The love of her life. He'd saved her more than once. He wasn't here, either.

"He said he'd do anything to keep me safe..." she mumbled. It earned her a hard blow to the skull.

There was an ear-splitting crack.

Her eyes drooped as she watched the man begin to panic. He wasn't supposed to kill her yet, they didn't have the information they needed.

The information she'd never had.

The girl watched as blood poured through the locks of her dirty blonde hair. It was pretty, the blood was. She'd always been fascinated by it.

She winced. Something was happening, something different this time. She'd never been hurt this badly since she'd been here.

Maybe, just maybe, she was dying.

As two or three men rushed to the now opened doorway a smile spread over her face. Sheer delight rushed through her veins, the veins in which blood was slowly thinning. She was losing a lot, and fast.

She laughed quietly. It was the end, finally the end.

And as one of the men grabbed her shoulders and did all he knew to keep her alive, she could think of only one thing.

The last breath she ever had.

For him.

"I love you."

(c) Shaley Wiles