Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark

Murder Is Like A Painting

"Come over here, shit-stick," I sigh and look at the ground. It's the best I can do.

"I said come over here!" I complied. I may as well not aggravate him further. Walking over to him slowly I made sure to maintain eye contact, I wanted to see the look in his eyes as he punished me.

"What makes you think you can come here without giving me something, eh? Your bag. Empty it." I pull my bag off my back, undo the zip and emptied the contents on the floor.

"No, no. This will not do at all," he says, a disappointed and almost mocking tone in his voice. He looks up at me and smiles slyly.

I turn and try to run, but his fist connects sharply with the side of my head. I fall to the ground, dazed and light-headed. He pulls me up by my hair and swings another powerful punch at my face. I fall to the ground once more, this time with blood pouring from my nose. He places several sharp kicks into my gut and I cough, spluttering a pink liquid all over the floor.

The pain that flows through me is unparalleled. I tried to fight back the tears, to show strength against the horrible person that stands over me, but I fail. I curl into a ball and weep.

Every day, the same routine.

"Fucking miserable." He walks away with a grin on his face, as if he had just trodden on a cockroach.

I lay there, curled in a ball.

—

My mother asks how I got my wounds. I say I got them from a tough game of Rugby. She does not have to know about the vile person and what will become of him. I march up into my bedroom and sit in my bed, scratching at my thigh.

All the fear of that person was bubbling into hatred, and all the torment I had received was turning into strength. I plot in great depth as to what I will do, planning every single detail. It will be perfect.

He shall suffer.

—

I awake the next morning and gaze out of the window. The bitter cold had gripped the skies, and snow is pouring down from the heavens. A tranquil setting for what is about to take place. We see the peace in the strangest of things.

I continue my day at school like any other, the teachers and my friends unaware of what I have become. Even I was not truly aware of my potential. I enjoy my lunch with my friends, savouring every minute of it for this would be the last time they would see me for who I was. We are all monsters inside.

I keep on running over the plan in my head, building up all the adrenaline I would need. It felt so good to have that chemical running through my body, warming my breath and stimulating my brain. We are nothing but flesh and chemicals.

I leave school at the end of the day and approach the area where the disgusting person "hangs out" with his equally disgusting friends. He notices me and tells his friends to go on.

I smile.

—

"The fuck are you smiling about?" He says, aggression building in his voice. I remain quiet.

"Come here." I stand still.

"I said COME HERE!" I raise my middle finger at him.

"You little shit." He charges towards me and I charge away. The snow crunches satisfyingly underfoot as the white surroundings zip by me. I have a goal and I am running to it.

I hear him following close behind me, shouting curses and threats at me. He has no idea of the strength I have gained.

I see my goal and I run towards it. The snow flattens out as I run out over a frozen lake. I stand still, facing away from him. I can hear his heavy breathing behind me.