Going Back

Trigger Warning : Heavy themes. Blood. Violence. Murder. Abuse

(Damn. That's a long list. Might be my worst. Let's get to this)

Do not read if you cannot stand anything close to GOT. The battle, injury scenes, I mean. Proceed with caution!

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Blood boiling, he thrust the knife through the man's neck pushing him over to the glass table. The mat which was a hue of blue now looked purple with the red of blood soaked into it; Interestingly, it was only the body that remain unbruised.

He waltzed into the house without any trouble; the key unchanged even after all these years. His heart, throbbing in anticipation of the moment that he had so long waited for. He navigated his way through the house despite the pitch black darkness; he had every corner of the rooms smouldered into his mind. After all, his entire childhood was spent here. With a wicked smile, he grabbed his target by the neck.

He drove through the road which was the only sign of human habitation, otherwise snuggled into the arms of the dense forest. The forest with its wind rustling leaves had stored his cries within themselves, and today as he zoomed past the very woodland that he had so often run through, tripping over, trying to escape but failing to, it reverberated with his sorrow; as if reminding him of the pains he bore till now. At last, he reached his destination.

The lake was situated at the end of the city. He often sat there observing its silent waters, mulling over his rage for that one individual. Today, right at this moment; that tattoo flashed perennialy in front of his eyes, clouding his vision, pushing him to, for some reason to wail uncontrollably. Memories of his childhood more like the worst horror movie that he had ever seen. One that he never intends to re-watch.

He was young, his parents succumbed to a car crash and his custody was given to his uncle; who accepted him in his house but not his heart. Every night, he would return drunk and beat him till his alcohol filled body allowed him to. He was left-handed but never utilized that trait when he was abusing him, but instead used his weaker right hand so that it could serve as an alibi to his favour. The bruises were seen but ed off as results of petty fights with other guys which he was too scared to accept. Seven days a week, he faced the wrath of this man with concealed horns, his eyes fixated on a tattoo on the demon's left hand. He would never forget that mark. He finally succeeded on a fateful day, to find his way out of the woods and disappearing without the man in his mid 30s catching up to him and returned today after so many years. The first place that he went to was the lake - the only solace of his childhood.

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Wait. Don't exit the blog yet if you've read this far.

Let's rewind and write the story again. The 5th paragraph is now the 1st. The 4th is now the 2nd. The 3rd remains the 3rd. The 2nd paragraph is now the 4th and the 1st paragraph is now the 5th.

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He was young, his parents succumbed to a car crash and his custody was given to his uncle; who accepted him in his house but not his heart. Every night, he would return drunk and beat him till his alcohol filled body allowed him to. He was left-handed but never utilized that trait when he was abusing him but instead used his weaker right hand so that it could provide an alibi to his favour. The bruises were seen but ed off as results of petty fights with other guys which he was too scared to accept. Seven days a week, he faced the wrath of this man with concealed horns, his eyes fixated on a tattoo on the demon's left hand. He would never forget that mark. He finally succeeded on a fateful day, to find his way out of the woods and disappearing without the man in his mid 30s catching up to him and returned today after so many years. The first place that he went to was the lake - the only solace of his childhood.

The lake was situated at the end of the city. He often sat there observing its silent waters, mulling over his rage for that one individual. Today, right at this moment; that tattoo flashed perennialy in front of his eyes, clouding his vision, pushing him to, for some reason to wail uncontrollably. Memories of his childhood more like the worst horror movie that he had ever seen. One that he never intends to re-watch.

He drove through the road which was the only sign of human habitation, otherwise snuggled into the arms of the dense forest. The forest with its wind rustling leaves had stored his cries within themselves, and today as he zoomed past the very woodland that he had so often run through, tripping over, trying to escape but failing to, it reverberated with his sorrow; as if reminding him of the pains he bore till now. At last, he reached his destination.

He waltzed into the house without any trouble; the key unchanged even after all these years. His heart, throbbing in anticipation of the moment that he had so long waited for. He navigated his way through the house despite the pitch black darkness; he had every corner of the rooms smouldered into his mind. After all, his entire childhood was spent here. With a wicked smile, he grabbed his target by the neck.

Blood boiling, he thrust the knife through the man's neck pushing him over to the glass table. The mat which was a hue of blue now looked purple with the red of blood soaked into it; Interestingly, it was only the body that remain unbruised.

-The End

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#review maybe? xD