Ultraviolence by patrick heneghan (novel24 TXT) 📖

notices I'm gone?

 

It's as if everyone I ever knew, every instinct I ever had was screaming at me, I needed to run as fast as I can away from this house. Away from this madness, away from the devil and every inferno that followed him.

 

Sizzle

 

Holding the spatula like a weapon, he flipped the meat onto a large white plate, grease filled the edges of the plate like a poison stream. I flinched as he walked over to me, his hand caressing my cheek. staring at the plate he placed in front of me, my lungs and heart racing. The sound of a silver knife and fork spread through my bones as it scratched the plate. I waited until the two sausages were cut into thick, round circles.

 

"Eat up, my love."

 

My fingers twitched as he placed a fork in my hand, already containing a pieceof meat in its four spikes. Terrified, I sat staring at it, its juices dripping along the thin handle until it was stopped by my nimble hands. I brought the slice to my mouth, it's smell penetrated my senses as it rested on my lips. I opened my mouth, its taste spread across my tongue like a disease. I tried to swallow but it just sat there impatiently, caged between my teeth. Before I could understand what I was doing I spat it out into the pure white plate. I quickly realised, when Ezequiel's eyes grew dark, that that was the wrong decision.

Ezequiel suddenly picked up several slices of sausages in his hand and pushed them into my mouth. I strained as he forced his hand over my mouth and kept it there as I struggled to escape his grasp. He held my whole body down with his own, like a boa constrictor strangling it's prey.

 

"I'm got going to let you go until you eat."

 

His piercing blue eyes, crunched up as if he was looking for something, stared into my patient brown ones as wide as the moon and stars surrounding them. My chest rose and fell as the food slid down the back of my throat. I begin to gag, the food moving from the back of my throat to my mouth and back to my throat again. I stayed like that for a while, him on top of me refusing to move, the food in my mouth refusing to be eaten.

I when I could finally work up the courage, I managed to force the food down my throat. He then let out a sigh of relief, as if me not eating was torturing him in some way.

 

"Finally." He breathed, his lips brushing my ears as he did so.

 

Gently, I pushed him off of me, attempting not to spark anything inside him. holding my hands as he stood up, he tugged me until I stood as well, parallel to him. He grabbed my hands once again and brushed his fingers through my hair, with each strand he would curl around his fingers before letting them fall to my shoulders. He brought those fingers to my mouth and pushed past my lips yet still refused to go past my teeth as if my tongue was some sacred ground that he dare not enter.

 

"Come Amelia, I have something to show you." He grinned, filled with some sadistic sense of confidence.

 

He led me through the corridors of his mansion, gradually picking up the pace with each door we went through as if he was growing impatient. His grip on my hand grew tighter as he started running towards the last door on the end of the last corridor opposite to us. Without hesitation he opened the dark oak door to reveal a snow white room, containing only a tripod and the camera that was attached to it.

Ezequiel entered the room, beckoning for me to follow, the heels of my shoes echoed across the large room.

 

"Stand in front of the camera."

 

Timidly, I made my way to the centre of the room where the camera aimed. My eyes wondering to avoid his gaze, my breathing slowly settled to a steady pace whilst he got his camera ready.

 

Flash

 

"Now take of your night gown."

 

My hands shook as I brought them to lace around my neck. I made deep breaths to try and distract myself from his penetrating glare.

 

"No! Look happy, look pretty. It's important."

 

I closed my eyes and focused, trying to force myself to be happy. Trying to find something, some part of my messed up live I could cherish.

 

Breathe in breathe out

Breathe in

 

Then, I found some thing. I imagined Nina's hands were mine, hers were the hands that were slowly undoing my lace.

 

Flash

 

Hers were the hands that held the lace in my hands and let it fall to my feet.

 

Flash

 

Hers were the hands that pulled the thin white gown over my torso.

 

Flash

 

And hers were the hands that glided its way down my naked body.

 

Flash

need you baby like i breathe you baby

 

6th January 2018

 

Nina

 

"I just don't know where she could have gone," Rose cried, tears welling up in her eyes. Once perfect curls were tangled and frizzy like a birds nest. Her face was pale, this was the first time in days she left her apartment, only to drown herself in liquid sorrow.

 

"We've known each other since middle school, I know she has issues but I wouldn't think she would have just left." Her mascara smudged across her face, leaning to the left from where she wiped her many tears. She was falling to pieces right in front of me, right in front of everyone. Yet, nothing in this entire world could make her care.

 

"This isn't like her, to leave me, to leave you behind like we're nothing. To just go without a word, the last time I saw her she was getting ready to go out and meet you! I just can't..." all possible words she could have said just seemed to fade out of her, her shoulders sunk in shame and defeat.

 

Shaking, she lifted the glass to her lips and gulped down the last of her whiskey. Pain was evident with everything she did, the way she spoke, the way that she simply couldn't care anymore about anything. Her eyes were glassy and she was losing weight fast, her once healthy arms were thin enough to completely rap your fingers around. Her clothes were stained and ripped at the seems yet still vibrant in colour.

 

"What if she didn't run away, what if she..." she rushed, tripping over her words as she spoke

 

"What if she's dead." She panicked, her eyes grew wide like a deer in the headlights.

 

I stared at her in disbelief, my heart raced as I tried to reassure her. Desperately, my mind tried to think of anything to say, anything.

 

"I grew up in Sebokeng in the south of Africa. when I was little I always used to sneak out," I began, trying to piece together my memories.

 

"I did it just to get a buzz, I was doing something bad, something new and exciting, without hurting anyone. At least that was what I thought. I would explore the railways that would be stretching for miles, I was like a fish swimming across a stream. Then, I heard gunshots, there was a protest going on right next to me and the police opened fire. The sound was like nothing I ever heard before, like a thousand storms with a thousand deaths." The memory replayed in my head like a broken record, repeating every gun shot and every face as the life drains out of their eyes.

 

"And the screaming, oh the screaming. It was as if the ground itself was shaking and every tortured soul in hell was crying out. I ran underneath the nearest bridge I could find and covered my ears. The streets ran red with blood and all I could do was watch. I thought it was my fault, as if this was god punishing me for disobeying my mother. I started to cry, I wanted my mother more than anything." I paused trying not to break down.

 

"Then I felt a pair of arms rap around me, it was my mother with my sister behind her. We ran away to grans and stayed the night, I never got over it but I felt more... mature. As if that experience had shaped me. And I guess it did."

 

Rose looked at me, eyes wide in awe and sympathy.

"I'm so sorry I-"

 

"No it's okay. What I'm trying to say is, even in the darkest times you will find the ones you love and they will find you. However, both of you need to want to find each other." I observed, making sure Rose was still listening

 

"Maybe she just wants to reinvent herself, loads of people who've been what she has been through do, or she could just be

Slowly, she began to feel better with what I said and sipped her drink with more care this time, savouring the taste as it spread across her tongue.

 

"I guess you're right." She tried, still not fully believing me.

 

Suddenly, Rose stood up, knocking over the wooden stool as she did so. Panic was evident on her face, her eyes fixated on a tall, white man coming through the door. I recognised him, I can't remember why.
Before I even had a chance to ask Rose why she was so scared, she was already running to the door on the other side of the bar.

The man sat down in front of me, lighting a cigarette as he did so. Smoke made its way over to me, emptying my lungs as I began to cough into my hand. Questioningly, the few people in the bar turned around to stare at him, each

 

"Sir, you can't-"

 

He brought his fingers to my lips, I flinched away before he touch me. He seemed to believe he owned everyone and everything . As if he was entitled to anything in sight

 

"She's mine." He whispered, so close I could feel his breath on my face. I could smell the repelling sent of nicotine and rot from from his lungs.

Silently, he pulled out two photographs from his leather jacket, placing them i front of me. I took one look and I could instantly recognise her, Amelia Sparashe. She stood alone in a plain white room, a slight smirk spread across her face like a constellation. The first one was of her fingers wrapping around a thin nightgown, it's lace weaved over her chest only to end at her thin neck. The second was different, her hands rose in the air as she began to take of her clothes. Her ribs poking through the paper, her hair falling down her sides.

 

Before I knew what was happening, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my hand that caused me to drop the photos onto the dirty counter beneath me. Suddenly, I saw that the mysterious man had stuck the end of his burning cigarette into my weak hands, smoke was spiralling into the air around me as blisters formed on my skin. I quickly grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the cold, wooden counter in front of him. His arms writhing in pain as I held him down refusing to look into