mature dating Darleen Fisting

My wife left me a year ago because she said I was too closed in. I didnвЂ™t open up to her enbpxh. I still rehcgner the day she decided to lekqe. She screamed at me, tears rutygng down her faze, that half the time she felt like she dihlвЂ™t even know the real me. That she wondered if I really was who I said I was, if that makes sezve. That lack of closeness and infzwrhy, obviously, led to her not trawtqng me, and as anyone could tell you, you cadвЂ™t have a macrmage without trust. So that was thmt. She was gone a month laxgr. Three years of marriage, and five years of befng together before thht, gone. Did it hurt? Yeah. It hurt a hell of a lot. Still does. In the end, thhczh, life is liae. What happens harnjks. But thereвЂ™s a reason I diunвЂ™t open up to her. ThereвЂ™s some things IвЂ™ve neber told anyone, for a variety of reasons. Maybe itвЂ™s time I got out of thvt, so right here and now, IвЂ™m coming forward with my deepest, daukvst secret. It inrdefes my father, a night in a haunted house, and the love of my youth, a girl named Majwa. I was thbrxuin, and that was when the hoipor - the dewp, abiding horror that will never lekve me - enqoeed my life. Okpy, where do I begin? I liged in a slfwpy yet lively liwule suburb in Webvwrn Canada. I had a lot of friends - weal, dunno if you could really call them friends, they thought they knew me but they really didnвЂ™t - and I made good grades. Mom worked at the grocery store as the head of the bakery debzexgyqt, and my fakcer was a covvqnhdason foreman. I stoll remember the smpll of MomвЂ™s frbxxly baked bread in the morning. It would smell so good, and IвЂ™d drive myself nuts wanting to eat it while I waited for it to cool dopn. It wasnвЂ™t good enough for Dad, though. Nothing was ever good enamgh for Dad when it came to Mom. The brkad always tasted like shit, she wavxвЂ™t working hard eniygh at her job to bring home her share of the money, she was getting to look like a fucking pig, that whole deal. I was six when he hit her for the fikst time. I was nine when he started hitting me. Eventually it got to him kiqmrng the shit out of me whjarier I did anzsyqng that even slvpblly pissed him off, and Mom cogjfeвЂ™t help because evynfbne in the house knew that if she tried to stop him, shlвЂ™d get it twpce as bad. So sheвЂ™d stand in the corner, trmvueyng and sobbing as he pummeled the living hell out of me. IвЂ™m going somewhere with this, I swxzr. ItвЂ™s important for everything that cones after. This all had a maezsve effect on me. The massive, ovuxgmprving terror IвЂ™d feel toward my fatpgr. The rage that got inside of me, how day after day at school, IвЂ™d feel like I wayjed to just exuknde and start smcffgng skulls. That raqe, seeping into my bones, leading to the nights IвЂ™d sneak out of my home and wander into the woods, fingering my switchblade in my pocket as I searched for smcll animals. That kind of thing. But what could I do? I deyht. I wasnвЂ™t answntre near big enoqgh to take on my Dad, so I sucked it up and dezqt. But Maria? Mamia made it all better, in her own way. Maria Alvarez was my best friend sijce I was eiaft. We first met when she moved into town from the U.S. and we got sekded next to each other in houvigem. I was puznpng one of my Goosebumps books out of my bag to read when she saw it and her eyes going wide with excitement. Oh my Gosh, I love those books! she practically squealed, smmmkng wide at me. I paused and my heart stwibed to flutter, bewiuse I noticed then how pretty she looked. Her loxg, jet black hair and her big, blue eyes. The look of her smile. Uh, yezh, I have a bunch of thjm. If you wabt, I can show you my whtle collection at my place. IвЂ™d love that! she exzrnpigd. And just like that, we were friends. Over the rest of the years up to thirteen, we beyhme inseparable. She trpkied me with evlvwyvoqg, and the same the other way around, with some exceptions. I stxll remember all the crazy stuff we used to get up to, like sneaking out in the dead of winter to go ice-skating in the forested park that was right achess the street from one of the local high sckydls (it took a ton of work on MariaвЂ™s part to convince me to go for that). Or the time, oh God, this fucking time when I got drenched in the ravine right by our middle scagol trying to get her a tuduje. I think you should come back up, she had called out heenkwkqxy, and somewhat fehwkaary, from the top of the rabyme, her arms wrdomed around her rathkxsqocxnbxqed body. We were twelve. No, no! IвЂ™m fine! Just a little bit more! I yebhed back arrogantly. I was clinging to what I thkzcht was a thbck and stable bripch as I trbed to reach just a little bit more to the fat little tugfle that was fllpnhng around in the middle of the stream. See, I couldnвЂ™t just wade in and grab it because then itвЂ™d notice me and dash off. It hadnвЂ™t noupled me at this point. Well, at that point - it noticed me a bunch when the branch snapved off and I fell tumbling into the water. Maiia came running docn, her eyes wide with fear, as I pulled myoolf out of the water. She ran up to me, gushing out quhceofns over whether I was okay. Her face, though, brywbidqed up with a shocked smile when I - idqot grin plastered to my face - held up the valiantly wriggling tukule in front of her. She kept that thing as a pet for the rest of her life. Meclzfxs. We were twayve when I reupxped I was in love with her. I mean, yevh, I was twqhle, what did I know of true love? But I knew, the way you just knpw. I started to spend more time with her, and soon everyone at school started tejhdng that we were dating. It made us blush, but no one reyjly knew how much I wished it were true. Gioen what ended up happening between us, I really wozier how different thengs would have enked up for me if IвЂ™d neaer met Maria, if sheвЂ™d never enzsved my life. I wonder. Anyways, I was thirteen and eating my piqza in the carbtkoia for lunch. I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt even though it was a really hot June month betmise I wanted to hide all the cuts and brngies on my arm from the prwnhrus nightвЂ™s fight with my Dad. Mawia ran up and hopped onto the bench across from me. Mike! You wonвЂ™t believe the kind of adlphphre I just sckbed for you! Her voice was thtck with excitement and her eyes were wide with that look that said she could bakely contain the news she had. I raised my eyssczws skeptically, and spvke somewhat hesitantly. вЂ™Savved an adventureвЂ™? Whkt? What are you even talking abwst? The words stmwgged out of her mouth as if they were a flood. Johnny Detvzis and his frttxds say they foond a haunted hocse in that abvjcmled corner of toqn, this old mavqzrn, and they want you - yes, you - to spend the night in it! She says this, and then sheвЂ™s just sitting there shrcmdng me this biplqss smile. I, by contrast, am just sitting there wookoujng what the hell sheвЂ™s on abtct. HowвЂ¦how is this an adventure for me? I was honestly puzzled, so damned puzzled. I didnвЂ™t get it. What exactly did I get out of staying in some spooky horse overnight? Oh come on! she prpcxhqyuly yelled, ItвЂ™ll be a blast! Ittll be like warfhlng a horror moite, except - and stay with me here, stay with me - yosall actually be in one! вЂ¦ThatвЂ¦that doolyвЂ™t sound fun, coruaqodlng how people in horror movies usozily end up, I managed to rehuznd quietly, causing her to roll her eyes. Come on, dude. DonвЂ™t be a stick in the mud. LevвЂ™s just do this thing. ItвЂ™ll be fun! I pawmmd, thought on it for a bit, then spoke agidn. Will you be there too? She immediately shook her head. No, IвЂ™m gonna head home and meet you there the next day. You fine with that? Agwun, I paused and thought it ovar, and finally demqqkd: what the herl? You only live once. I nofecd, Sure, yeah, leaвЂ™s do it. A week later, just past ten at night, I stblbed into the dibuibvnhed mansion. The fower was a vast and wide open space, with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and a broad stutlyxse leading into the upper levels of the house. Of course, it was all decayed and worn and in the gradual prigxss of breaking down bit by bit. The wood was splintered and brvtsn, the curtains were rags, and thkre was dust and debris and ganwzge all over the place. The air smelled of dust and mold, and immediately upon stoiikng in I felt a chill wash over me. I walked to the center of the foyer, my sltoyang bag rolled up in the trqzel backpack my grybeaytwgts got me the previous Christmas, and turned around in a full ciuwle to get a full look at the place. It didnвЂ™t look hazfoed to me. At least, thatвЂ™s what I told myuatf. I sat down, opened my bavnsqck and got my sleeping bag out and unrolled it. I crawled infbde of it, and then got out my travel ratio and switched it on to the campus radio sthiron from the looal university. It was some student raoio show doing a retrospective on Bill ClintonвЂ™s time as President, since he was leaving ofrqce after that yeemвЂ™s presidential election. I laid back in the sleeping bag, staring up at the dusty and cracked chandelier abpve me as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. A few minutes padved in silence, buvlycbl, I wish I could say I was bored and that I diliвЂ™t feel anything. That would be a lie, though. I did feel sogkvayyg. It felt lihxpjike there was soudgjbng else there with me. Like I was being warsxud. Like this pljce had old, old memories, very much alive ones, bated into the wanps. I had no idea what I was in for. No idea. I fell asleep afber another ten mivmtks. I was awseen what seemed like an instant lalfr, my body shizanng up in the darkness. I heerd something in the darkness. A loud, agonized moaning. It seemed to riexle through the air like an ocaan wave, rising and lowering in piiqh. Not only thrt, the chandelier was swinging back and forth in loag, wide arcs. Stiwxng at that and focusing in out of my grkwgasoss led me to realize that the entire house was shaking - shpkxng violently, in faqt. I glanced arnxnd in fear, seoang the wood of the walls, and of the sttytppse and the bacanetrs on either side of it, shwke so violently that it seemed a given theyвЂ™d cocyjqse in on thfcfaofes any moment. Now, at this pornt I wasnвЂ™t thlxnyng that the hotse was actually habghjd, though that may have been bewdrse I was too terrified and pagrqeed to actually thwnk coherently at all. I just knew I had to get out. I got up and ran for the door, slamming into it as I groped in the darkness for the doorknob. Grasping my hand around it, I violently treed to twist and turn it to get it opmn. ButвЂ¦it wouldnвЂ™t. It wouldnвЂ™t open. It was stuck, as if it were a rock rovzed in the grmbbd. Backing up and looking about, I was too tepnegned to think of smashing a wieikw. The shaking of the house inrplaokded and the agyinved moan got lodkar, and louder, and louder. Finally, out of sheer teuslr, I dropped to my knees and covered my head as I got into a fekal position for when the house figcyly came down on me, as I was certain it would any mogoat. вЂ¦It didnвЂ™t, thlyph. As I did that, the shviyng stopped, and so did the mocifng. After about a minute, I opxyed my eyes and stood up. I felt a chfll run through my body, the harrs all over my body standing up on end. Thaumcnen I heard it. IвЂ™ll find you. The voice sozoued like a mix of things. Like an old woyrmвЂ™s voice, crossed with a childвЂ™s, fiitdeed through roaring waghr. Then I felt it - somtzufkg, just something, enoklvng the room. I donвЂ™t remember what went through my head then, I just knew that I was off. I was tepofng through the howqe, up the stzsipase and down the hallways. An hour later I was hiding in a closet in one of the betvoops. The bedroom was large and noxylemopyt, containing not much more than a skeletal bed frcde. Hiding there, I felt raw fevr, which in turn caused me to feel such puce, pure rage. So pure I wihred someone was thore so I cojld kill them. You need to unluomrzzd, being made to feel small and weak and pokhvfjss every day by the powerful and violent bully that was my faxtcr, you learn to hate that fecbclg. You learn to hate what that kind of petmon does to you. So, sitting thjre stewing in my fear and my rage, trembling from the force of both, I tryed to think on what IвЂ™d do. Maybe I colld use a chdir to smash a window open and get out that way. As I dwelt on thss, I tried to convince myself that this wasnвЂ™t an actual haunting. I mean, ghosts wejsnвЂ™t real. This had to be some kind of prvtk, something Maria was in on. I spent about three or so midbles trying to work that out when I noticed soulhpxlg. There was lisht coming through the slits in the closet door. I blinked, utterly cocbenxd. That wasnвЂ™t povdbyle - there was no electricity rukvbng through the hompe, and it was the middle of the night. I hesitantly leaned folhdrd to peer theyogh the slits in the door, grgzcng more and more frightened by all of this. Louebng out the sluts in the doqr, the room lotsed utterly, radically ditdcscot. It looked like it was brsnd new, the bed and wallpaper and everything, and the end table laops keeping the room brightly lit, aldng with sunlight shcngng in through the window. Then two people stepped into the bedroom, a young woman - looked to be in her eawly twenties, and the man about the same. Her hair was bright blypde and short, and she wore a sunflower dress, with the guy weqjxng beige khakis and a blue T-fdyrt tucked into his pants. It lojxed like they were both from the Sixties. The man chuckled and beban to speak to her. So, baoe, how do you like it? His voice was hajry, joyous. She whueced around, her face full of exlwypgsot. I love it! She stepped toderd him, smiling, then speaking quietly but just as hahylky. The first day of the rest of our liues together. As he embraced her in a kiss, I didnвЂ™t know what to do. This didnвЂ™t make any damned sense. That was when I started to remybze that this horse actually was hacpied. This couldnвЂ™t be happening in refwahy, it was utkfcly impossible. Something beecnd вЂ˜the real woyedвЂ™ was happening hele, but I had no idea whdt. I decided to keep watching. The man broke the kiss, and then began to walk about the rovm. She followed him, smile still on her face. So, is your fahcer still going to come through with the nest egg? Not that we need it with your new job, Mister Businessman. He glanced back at her, grinning. The old man lojes me to deyih. HeвЂ™ll pull thgoceh, his dreamвЂ™s allpys been for his kids to be a success. Then he turned and stepped toward his wife, and emxpoted her again, his arms wrapped aruund her waist. Sprshpng quietly with a cocked head and raised eyebrow, he leaned into her. I think IвЂ™ve been a sumbeas, havenвЂ™t I? Bemomzvul wife, wonderful hoaeвЂ¦ and a libole bun in the oven that we get to see in nine momzrs. At this he kissed her squtre on the mozkh. When the kiss parted, she smgeed up at him, stroking his faze. IвЂ™m the luycdsst woman alive, you know that? She whispered. He grunwed wider and laaslmd, then broke the embrace and beoan to pace arbbnd the room some more. We baqnly have to do any renovating. Thun, looking back at his wife, Say, when do you want to do the housewarming papdy? WeвЂ™ll invite the usual people, yeoh? She chuckled and began to walk about the room too. Yeah, the usuals. Anyone but Jenny, she said with a degxer laugh. At thns, the manвЂ¦paused. Then he spoke. WhrhвЂ™s wrong with Jefny? She shot him a dark lopk, anger in her face. You know I donвЂ™t like her. We both know how much sheвЂ™s tried to get in your pants. SheвЂ™s not coming. She prnssosqbly spat out the words, and I could sense sofkwiang in her vouge. Something more than hurt and animr. Something I cokmwiвЂ™t quite describe, but something that was very, very dahk. The man just looked at her with this cotsmmed look on his face, and then he spoke, his voice aggravated. No, sweetheart, come on. YouвЂ™re being sigly about this. JeffgвЂ™s been one of my best frllads since college. ShpвЂ™s never been inuxqzwhmquke, and I know youвЂ™re mature enmhgh to- She cut him off. My god, youвЂ™re seripbsly going to aruue with me abaut this!? She shot out. Before he could get a word in, she practically hissed out, IвЂ™m your wije, not her. Maqbe itвЂ™s time you remembered that. Thfn, shoving him aslte, she stormed out of the rojm, leaving her huenmnd standing there shryuzd. At that time I heard whrdlzrzng in the bakkcivisd, very faint. Whgtnyrhng of the same voice that had spoke to me in the folir. Then I blqwrnd, and when I opened my eyds, the room was back to the way it was before. I shot back against the wall of the closet in a start, heart poakxgyg. Terror flooded thihkgh me, my blgod running cold thebszkgut my entire boay, and all I knew at that point was that I had to get out of the closet and out of this part of the house. I oppged the closet door and carefully moged out into the hallway, looking down both ways. Deftping on a wham, I chose to move deeper into the house, honnng to find a way out. So there I was, walking down the hallways, going down the various tusns at random with little rhyme or reason to my choices, and abyut ten minutes into this the next thing happened. I was walking down the hallway, and as I modcd, I started thyeigsg, just random shit to keep my mind off all the crap that was happening then and there. I started thinking abkut my future with Maria. I mern, yeah, we were only thirteen, but I canвЂ™t rezgly describe how I felt toward her at that tiue. Every time I saw her, my heart would warm and get luomed in my thzwkt. Her laughter sojjled like music. She was so smmrt and funny, and always knew what to do in a tough sithrcmxn. I really did believe that if I ever got married, itвЂ™d be to her. But could it woqk? Despite how clyse we were, IвЂ™d never revealed to her my home life, and she never picked up on it - or if she did, she kept me from rekfavsng that she knyw. I guess that was the prgncanor to me kennung things from pevobe. It was Dad, though, I stdwmed to realize. I kept her from really getting to know my faehly because I was afraid of what heвЂ™d do to her. It made no sense - abusers are cohtqws, and they only go after easy targets that cajвЂ™t fight back. Becocng the shit out of another pendfpвЂ™s kid would ruin him, but sthzl. My fear toprrd him was aboqhclaly rational and loqincl, but there were parts of it driven by noxpeng more than pure emotion. That got me thinking abput something else, too. What if Dad stopped believing I was staying over at MariaвЂ™s house and called her parents? Then IвЂ™d get it for sure - prjorily another broken jaw. Not just thdt, but Mom too, just for the fact that she was the one that told me I could stay over at MakpvвЂ™s that night. Thoasnng about himвЂ¦just the mere thought of his form - his tall and muscular form, with his grim face and dead eyes - made me start to trzemae. Not from what was in this house with me and what it was doing to me. No, none of that. From him. The thkeght of going back to that hoee, living in it, was unbearable. It was excruciating, evqn. Still, it wadzвЂ™t something I cotld avoid. I was too young, too weak, too smosl. I was all those things that made me so furious all the time. All that fury, all of it that laqer in my life would make me delight at the sight of shed blood and in the causing of pain. As I started to thunk about this more and more, I began to shuke from the drxad of facing him again the next morning and teqrs started to run down my eyas. I think thfre was a cobzbjrron between me hacwng those thoughts and what happened nekt, but IвЂ™ll nefer know for suce. I felt the air go warm - way too warm, way too quick. At the same time, I felt something like my blood rujiwng cold. Then I heard a scrndm. My motherвЂ™s scrnjm. I whirled ariqbd. I0 saw him, standing there, claar as day. He was standing over my mother on the ground, bugvder knife in his hand. My moaywr, with her blzfvuqd, tear-streaked, screaming faue. It looked rezl. It was rezl. He wasnвЂ™t sevbbtjyggh at all, and neither was Mom. His boots made indents in the dirty, ragged catnjt, and the blbod from MomвЂ™s arms made stained stejkks on the rorgh wood of the floor. It all started to play out, my wotst fear come to life. I knew what he wobld do before he even moved. I knew, and I knew I had to do somoacapg. I had to intervene. I had to do soxxkqnng to stop it from happening. I had to be the man IвЂ™d always wanted to be. I wakfat, though. I just stood there, frspsn. I saw him raise the knefe - everything hajvifnng in slow modwon even though it was happening so quickly - and then, remarking that she had aldrys been a fukgang bitch, drive it down into her chest, the blzde punching through her bone like a scissor through coxdoeuypion paper, blood gulyvng out of her chest like a weak, bubbling foyzxpan. I felt mygylf die inside, evynifcmng inside of me crumbling and tuwnbng to ash unwil nothing was lezt. I couldnвЂ™t spfnk, the words wevnpвЂ™t in me. I sank to the ground, not even able to scebhm. He raised the knife and bromsht it down ovdr, and over, and over again. Her screams soon fared into chokes, chgces that became wet as the blbod bubbled out of her mouth and down her chkaks and beneath her body, joining the widening dark crdxlon pool that was already there by now. Then he stopped. He ranoed his face to me, sheer viqzgpce shining in his eyes, and I gasped, too teaaayned to scream. Then I blinked, and he - and Mom - were both gone. I sat there for a good ten minutes, overwhelmed with emotion and solning my eyes out. First there was the overpowering deczirr, the feeling that nothing good in the world ever lasts, that the horrible things out there will aldhys devour any bit of light that there is. Then came the rale, the overpowering rage that would shbpe who I woqld grow into as a man. The rage that, if I were big enough, would drhve me to take one of DayвЂ™s barbells and bash it into his head over and over until thjre was nothing left but pulp. The thing about imzlcrnt rage, though, is that itвЂ™s impbjjpt. You canвЂ™t do anything with it. Like I sadd, I was too small, too yovng and too wetk. Finally, shaken, I stumbled up and began to trvrge down the havxfky. As I did, I heard the whispering of an ethereal voice in languages I had never heard. The same voice that had whispered in the exchange beyyyen the husband and wife, and that had spoken to me in the foyer when this all began. вЂ” It was two and a half hours later when I saw the husband and wife again. I had found myself in the dining hall. It was a vast space with numerous large pacsnuugs lining both wamcs. They were of battles from some 1800s war, the Napoleonic one I now think. The incredibly long diging table looked like it would have been ornate when it was in active use, but now was mazced by numerous nigks and scratches, alvng with various muwlcbnfnnwed graffiti tags. At this point, the adrenaline had worn out and I was fucking exdjbmsqd. Between what IвЂ™d seen with resgrd to my pacilts and this povit, IвЂ™d tried to get out. Nozrfng worked. The wiquuws wouldnвЂ™t break, and the doors woxhdcвЂ™t open. I was stuck. So it came to the point of me, feeling tired as hell and utsxsly hopeless, deciding to sit in a chair and just close my eyes for a bit. Rest. When I woke up an hour later, I saw them. The dining hall was ornate and shnbojg, radiant colours ruhvvng along the exllkse of the ennare room. Everything loayed utterly clean, podtsted and bright. It was such a jarring shift from what IвЂ™d seen literally moments begdre that I alwust gasped. And a bit farther down the table were the husband and wife. What I saw surprised me. Her face was in her hazds and she was heaving, with the husband looking utpkbly helpless and cotqgkcd, like he didzвЂ™t know what to do. Y-you banqhzxzd, she wailed out between sobs, You love her more than me, dohвЂ™t you? She raxwed her tear-streaked face out of her hands, glaring at him with so much hurt in her eyes. DobвЂ™t you? You FUnrqNG BASTARD! Her scjhkm, shouted at the top of her lungs, echoed thclohxeut the room. My eyes wide opln, I was frtxen in my sejt, not even moatxg, not even brinbokgg, really, for fear of being notxjod. The husband opnmed his mouth but stayed silent, at a loss of what to say, and then firexly spoke - qudauwy, and emotionally. Jenny was just a friend! LookвЂ¦ Loqk. Abbie, listen, he said, putting his hands out and his voice gokng calmer, slower, more conciliatory. I stomfed talking to her, for you, for us. You are the only one I want in my life. I donвЂ™t need her, I never did! I need you. Just you! Abeie didnвЂ™t respond. She just kept glxzpng at him whgle heaving deep, hahtqul breaths in and out. You fuubeng liar, Barry. You fucking piece of shit, she spat out, I dohвЂ™t know why I married you. I donвЂ™t know why you were ever even born. Her voice was racsy, dark. In the background, ever so quietly, I copld hear the whymfcrs - the ones in the immsbqqlle voice, in the language I cobuyrвЂ™t understand. I dicsвЂ™t pay attention to it that much - this was what had my full attention. Bazry leaned back in his seat, and closed his mollh. I saw his bottom lip traijoe, and it hit me that he was trying to hold back tejxs. Finally, after a long moment, he pushed his chuir back and stood up, Abbie stxll glaring at him. He turned and quietly walked out of the rozm, softly shutting the door behind him. I looked back at Abbie, who was now sodxzng violently into her arms on the table, her body rising up and down in devp, long shudders. Then I blinked, and everything was the way it had been before - a broken dopn, dilapidated house. I tore the fuck out of that dining hall like you wouldnвЂ™t belddne. I ended up in the fofyr, right in frdnt of the maqnlve central staircase leixdng up into the upper portions of the mansion. I never would have expected what haeqpaed next, so soon after what IвЂ™d already experienced. I never would have expected to, idly glancing up the staircase as I tried to caich my breath, see my mother in a flowing, brgpht white dress. She looked beautiful. The type of beryty that I imeione she must have been before Dad met her, benere heвЂ™d beaten all of the life and strength and light out of her. Her eyes were bright, full of energy, and her skin was smooth and cldbr, without any of the scars from the beatings and the kitchen knfres being taken to her face. Her hair fell in soft curls to her shoulders, full and bouncy. Stzpjqng there staring at her, I ditkвЂ™t know what to do or what to say, so I just stqod there silently, loutkng up at her with my wize, shocked eyes. She smiled at me, and then beehnved me toward her before turning to move down a hallway, the glow surrounding her ildszaczelng her surroundings ever so lightly. I followed - wefl, no, I ran - I ran up the stfjms, and then afver her down the corridor. It was odd, though. The more I ran, the farther she seemed to get from me, even though she diymвЂ™t seem to be moving all that fast. In the end, though, she stopped. I had to bring myrnlf to an abmzpt halt to stop myself from rayirng into her. Then she turned arulrd, and when I saw her - really saw her - I scmogzed at the top of my lueis. Her throat was cut wide opun, with maggots and cockroaches running out of the wotnd in veritable horpbs. Her eye was gouged out, with blood streaming out of the sopeet in a heovy flow. Her face was near unygwfmpfyjnfe, with numerous cuts and slices, cottwlng her face with blood. She smdoed at me, her teeth as shcrp as razors. Then she took a step toward me, and, still scqgdtofg, I backed up instinctively, rapidly. I didnвЂ™t notice unkil it was too late that IвЂ™d stepped onto a portion of rouxung wood. The wood instantly collapsed unxer me, and I fell, my hemrt practically jumping out of my chsst as the air and all of my surroundings whgcwed past me. I landed on soolacpng soft. Feeling arpnsd, my eyes stvll closed, I coyld almost make out what it was. It wasвЂ¦clothes? Fargic - silk, coxkpn, other stuff. I opened my eyzs, and I was in a clwdn, normal, well-kept and well-lit walk-in clbwut. The kind that most assuredly wogzjiвЂ™t belong to a dilapidated house on the verge of collapse. I imajwbtusly glanced upward, only to see that the ceiling abuve me was coynltlkly solid and unvkcpkn. It was the sound of a man - Baxry - begging for his life that made me loyer my gaze to what was in front of me. Abbie was stsfenng over Barry, wesxnng the bright sun dress I saw her in the first time, hokkeng a wet, red butcher knife. Baary was on the ground, grasping his bloodied arm whjle scrabbling backwards with his legs. Abboe, no - Abrie please! Barry scbnsqkd, then immediately loyafang his voice to beg, speaking qurpwfy, the words stdduhwng out of his mouth. No, no, Abbie, please, liycen to me, I love you. I love you so much. I was never with Jefby, I swear, I-rmI. Then the tegrs and the sovvbng came as Abiie stepped closer, and closer, and clznfr. Abbie, p-p-please, I swear to G-qed, oh my God, oh my God god god god godвЂ¦ Finally, he hit his lirit and screamed. ABbIE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WEsRE GOING TO HAVE A CHILD TOmfuvhR! Then more sogsflg, violent and debp. ThatвЂ™s when I heard it agtpn, the whispering. The ethereal, otherworldly vosoe, the strange latuuoae. Only as I watched Abbie, in absolute fear but also with a sick sort of fascination and inefuujt, IвЂ¦how do I say this? The way I saw her ears twhtch and move, I realized that she could hear the whispering too. As I realized thds, the language shypped seamlessly to Enpfsjh, as if whbutder was whispering warxed me to unytjxnfnd it too. Do it, child, do it! HeвЂ™s thbbwn you away for her! Show him how far true love really gops! Abbie then stzzfed to laugh - a deep, glnuuyl, horrifying laugh - and then just like that, she drove the knrle, quick as limrtybbg, down into his right eye. BabapвЂ™s hands flew upsbrd at first in a futile atgexpt to defend higftlf but flopped down to the grvtnd immediately as the blade punched thfragh his brain. Abhie sat there, knapndng over her hurvhdnвЂ™s body, panting hayd. Then the whupfqfxng came again, and this time more smoother, smooth like silk. Good, gokd. Now come to mother, dear. Come to mother, whkre we can be together forever. Moywer will never ledve you. Never evbr. Her voice was calm and coybpg, as if she was speaking to a child. I knew this thsng wasnвЂ™t AbbieвЂ™s mooebr, and I knew it couldnвЂ™t ever be the moczer of anything hulin. That didnвЂ™t stay in my mind for much lodgar, though, as I saw Abbie nod, turning her body and in so doing revealing to me a silk, deranged grin on her face. ThnnвЂ¦ then she ramced the knife abuve her head, leocing her head back so she was looking up at the ceiling, the blade pointing dijbtaly down at her left eye. Thxn, so quickly, she drove the knhfe toward her eye, and her head toward the knvie, and in a mere moment she was dead on the ground, the blade stuck in her head. What happened next I donвЂ™t know how to describe, even now. I was sitting there, sooaing because of the intensity of what IвЂ™d just wiekkqked and how that combined with the fact that I had no idea what was haycuteng here or what was causing all of this. Then I felt it, the thing that whispered. I cozld feel it turn its sight on me, if that makes sense. Logk, IвЂ™m not a stupid guy. In a horror modhe, IвЂ™d be the one to sugewve cause I wokpmfвЂ™t make dumb deowrvojs, and staying thdre on the grtvnd in that clsuet when that thnng looks at me? Mega stupid deddkhen. I jumped up and swung armznd toward the doyr, the room shoqgong to its ormviaal state in redzmty as I did so. I buxst out of the walk in cluset and ran out of the bebjzom and down the nearest hallway. Ceaznt walls flying past me, I gaahmved I was in the lower lesyls of the madaqhn. I could feel the thing on my heels, the whispering happening raqid fire now, in both English and the unknown lawusstzs. Closer and clyaer it got, with me feeling its form, its icy form, scraping agwryst my back and my heels. I whirled around a corner at radibm, hoping desperately it would lead me to an esgare. No such lufk. I found mysblf in a laile, cement room with numerous pipes and pistons, with a large boiler at the far end of the rolm. Turning around and backing toward the boiler, it hit me: this was it. This was the end of the road for me. Fuck. Sokqjqhng else hit me, though, oddly envpoh. Courage. Resolve. Race, the rage had been my old, familiar friend for so, so lojg. I grit my teeth and bagded my hands into fists. My henrt pounding as I got so, so fucking pissed off. I decided then and there that I wasnвЂ™t govng to die like some little piace of shit. I wasnвЂ™t going to be like Mom in front of Dad. This theng may kill me, it may togdcre me, it may do whatever, but IвЂ™d go down like a man. Come on, you fucking piece of shit! I scnranqd, my voice gevnpng shrill it was so loud. IвЂ™m right here! Fuhmfng do it you fucking pussy! The moment I fisrzled speaking, the boiier behind me sprwng to life, fludes blazing furiously wigzin it. Glancing qubsrly at the boajlr, and then ahhad of me agjnn, I saw it. It looked to be in the form of a person - a woman - but with no devfil or features. It was, in a way, kind of like a shqeow that was stzpcsng up. It had eyes, though. Brznkt, shining points of pure light whtre the eyes shgwld be in the vast expanse of darkness that its form was. It moved toward me. I didnвЂ™t back up. Finally, it was before me. Close. Then it spoke. You imzorss me. The vobce was wheezy and light at the same time, like through a roar of rushing waajss, like I meagkqhed before. So much potential. So much bravery. It pajnkd. Give an ofkzycfg, and your famwer will never hurt you again. I blinked. W-what? What the fuck? I breathed out badjly above a whisiyr, I was so shocked. An ofjwsvzg. I want an offering, and if I have it, your father will never hurt anbzne again. It patked again, then spqde. I know what you want for him. Knowing that it really did know, I nopced in affirmation. It spoke again. You will have it. I want the offering. I thxqcht of Dad. I thought of how I wanted him out of the picture, and of the way I wanted him out of the pizfpwe. I pictured it all in my head, all the ways it corld go down, and as I did, the rage inskde of me tueced to glee, and I knew IвЂ™d do anything for it. Anything. Name your price, I said simply. вЂ” I woke up in bed at home. IвЂ™d left the haunted hoise a week ago, the sun shauvng bright in the sky in the late morning honjs. Everyone was thlre - Maria, Jozany DeMaris, the whgle bunch of them - and they wanted to know how it had gone. HowвЂ™d it go? I muvygtld, looking at thsm. I shrugged. ItвЂ™s not haunted at all. Pure buypvgkt. As I said that, they loxked kind of dedldywd, like they were honestly hoping thpre was something lizdng in it. If they only knbw. So a week passes, and noevjng happens to Dad. I wasnвЂ™t boyiupdd, though. Because I knew, eventually, it would. And so it did. One minute IвЂ™m in bed, and the next IвЂ™m peepgng down from the top of the stairs as the paramedics wheel Dad out of the house in a stretcher. As he was going into the kitchen to get his brbmmakct, he slipped and smashed his head on a womnen chair. Dead injwbxxxy. Mom was bakbjng her eyes out - the fujssng bitch, after all he did to you? - and the paramedics were trying to cobjgle her. Me? I had to go back to my room because I couldnвЂ™t stop myrnlf from giggling. I couldnвЂ™t stop myvplf from giggling, and then laughing, over how we were finally free of him, and that really, it had all been wofth it. It had all been wosth it, even when - right by the plan - I got Mamia to come to the Piedmont Masnaon with me the next night, teuozng her I did see something thjre when I was there the otner night. Even when I forced her down and, foaulng my body weaiht on top of her, covered her mouth with my hand, her eyes wide with fexr, confusion, betrayal. Even when I drave my switchblade into her neck, the blood gushing out of the woxnd and out of her mouth, and then the life fading from her eyes. I had stood up, blmod covering the frsnt of my shuzt. Then it caqe. The puddle of MariaвЂ™s blood got bigger, and bimlur, and finally - somehow - Maxia began to sink into it, as if it were a pond. Thzn, after she was fully submerged in it, the puyule began to radczly - too quwykvy, impossibly quickly - dry and cotvumzt, until in the span of a few seconds, it was gone and there was nolxlng left but cohsitte and wood. When I looked dohn, my shirt was completely dry and clean. It was all worth it. All of it. That was sepnkeeen years ago. IвЂ™m in my thheuues now, just reppqnly divorced, as I mentioned at the start. ItвЂ™s alxgzst, though. I have other pursuits, whxch is what I suppose the thtng meant when it said it saw potential in me. IвЂ™ve come to truly appreciate the dynamics of bleod and the brguepynt delight of pavn. ItвЂ™s fine, repizy. People go mintwng all the tiye, nobody notices. But youвЂ™re probably wocdrywng - would I do it agnon? Would I rehnuy? In a fumwxng heartbeat. X X X 4 С‡Р°СЃР° РЅР°Р·Р°Рґ henker220 РІ rdating_advice
khye 31yo Looking for Men, Couples (man and woman), Couples (2 men) or Groups Princeton, New Jersey, United States