Erasmus, Keira Fight [best ereader for students .txt] 📗

much money. Maybe he is not such an arrogant fool, ha, more likely I am the princess of the heaven. My clothing is faster on the ground, as you can count to three and now I am under the showerhead. But how to get the thing on, is the other question. Maybe I can push the right button, he is red, or the left, which has the colour blue. No idea what to do, I decide for the red one, what could worse happen? At my old home, I only had a bucket full of cold water, so I am happy about this called shower.

My fingers are pulling the turner and change it upwards, until there is a stop. The water is starting to drop onto my head, it is filled with wonderful warmth, but then the horror begins. Why is this so hot? My skin is burning like the living hell and I don´t know how to stop it. Panic arises in me, I even haven´t considered leaving, yet.

 

 

 

Hotter than hell

 

I don´t know if some mighty spirit has pushed me outside, but now I am lying on the floor. The shower is running wild, on the other side I am in freedom of my panic attack. The security is from short time, because somebody shakes my shoulders, so I am slippering wildly about the floor like a dying fish. Air is rushing through my lungs, never ending the torture of breaths. My skin is burning from the surprising hot water. I´ve never thought of such a burning fluid, have never known of its existence in the shower. The hands, which have grabbed me before, are pulling me to the bathtub. Somebody wants me drowned, no difference, hopefully the hurting goes away, I couldn´t care less about my life at this point of time. Something is running about my legs, wandering upwards to the belly and my arms, at last my face, then it repeats.

My voice is crying all over the room, the silhouette is holding my mouth. “Psst. I don´t mean any harm to you, so be quiet. We don´t want to wake up the neighbours, do we? So, shut up, damn girl!”, the man is hissing at me. Actually, the fear is bigger than the burning feeling under my skin, which happens to be away. As I am looking at my body, everywhere is red flesh, no wonder my breathing is a living hell. A sharp sting happens to my left leg, my husband has taken a knife and removes the dead parts. Why hurts it so much? My eyes are watering to the water in the bathtub, filling itself from me. Hah, ironical. If this moment weren´t so hurtful, I would laugh about the tragedy that takes me out to a realistically zombie. “Hold still. I try to stich your skin together, I can´t if your moving around like a fox with rabies.” My body is slowly going to be alien from my brain, so I have no control. Frankly, I can understand his shouts, but I can´t do anything against the force of nature.

His grip is getting stronger around my leg, it seems like a century until he is ready and changes the leg. The pain begins from the next immediately, so my thoughts can´t focus. Really annoying, if you want rainbow and unicorns, but get burns and fresh meat. Yeah, black humour works not in my favour. I am feeling like a potato on the barbecue, slowly backing from outside to inside, which I only know because my family and me have been at a party by a cousin four years ago. That was a special inviting, because they know the bad ways in which my stepfather and the rest is, so they wanted to help me. Clearly, that was no help in all, cause of my brother, who is a pain in the ass, if he can punish his sister. Frankly, he used this situation, everybody saw the cake with lemonade on my dress, which was something wonderful. Since then I only had two T-Shirts and trousers left. It´s kind of miserable if you can´t afford clothes, even if you are working your arse off.

“Now we are binding your arms and the rest. Think of something great, something wonderful, which contains your mind fully, because now starts the pain. Your legs were nothing against it.” Oh no, I have already used this method of thinking. What should I do now? If the hurting really starts to become more and more, I must cry, otherwise my teeth are shattering together. What want I more? Teeth ore skin? Hmm, a pretty awkward decision I must make. I do nothing of them.

He´s right, the pain is more intensive than before, I must control my mouth to the fullest, unless I want boxes from him. Not more torture than I can afford, this is the law in my case. “The right arm is not the worst, but your left is bad and your head is wide open. Unless I want to be caught, I can´t take you to the hospital. Gladly, I had a job as a doctor-to-be a few years ago, so I can help you a little bit. The rest must you take over, see, you can get healthy again. Okay, so healthy you were, as a skinny little girl.”

His words make my ache not better. My head begins slowly to throb, getting more in the direction of ugly mess. In order to prevent myself from any more, I can´t take, I am pushing my head against the porcelain behind me. “Hey, stop. You are a crazy woman”, he holds my head in a tight grip, so I can´t hurt myself any more. My plan is going under my hopes. Shit happens.

“I am taking you now, lying you onto the ground and you are holding still”, he orders me. I can´t do even more, so I am shutting my eyes for acceptation. He must misinterpret my doing, because his hands are open them in an instant. “You are not dying in my arms. Either far away or with somebody else or alone, but not in my presence. I can´t withstand such a death, I hope you can forgive me about that”, he confesses to me. Maybe he thought I can´t hear his words, but only my sight is conquered from black dots, not my ears. “No, no, no, you are not sleeping here. I bandage your head now, make a few stitches and give you a cold bag, so the pain will lessen. No, you get a many cold bags, looking at you, you can need them”, his voice is drifting away.

Sometimes I can feel somebody changes the cold bags at my body, sometimes I hear whispers, as if I am not alone. A few moments later, it can be minutes, hours or days, somebody touches my face. It´s hot, so much I can tell you, but nothing I can´t handle.

In the middle of an enormous fever, my mind sets a plan. Maybe I can die and left the world without any harm? I wait until nobody is in the room, which happens from time to time, so I can grab the knife next to me. He has used it to cut little pieces of bread, so he can put them into a glass of water. It should help me to gain weight, cause of my delirium. I am swinging my head from side to side, only to become weirder every second. It´s a daily occasion to question myself of the why. Why was I born into an unloving family, never gotten any piece in comfort? Yeah, at last I should be thankful, it could have been worse than that. Rather ignorance and a little bit of harm, than an everyday punishment and no work. Even if my job was not the golden mid of a life goal, I have been far away from terrible hits and I could make my own stuff, if nobody was around.

A new wave of hot blood hits my head, so I can´t focus on the right words, I can´t describe the unwell feeling of death. How do I know the end of my life? I can smell the captivating aroma of lilies and roses, gentian and lavender. The heaviness in my arms and legs is lost, now I am in another world, it is new to my senses, the air is clean and I can think clearly of my life. In my old world it will be forgotten, nobody has known me, but now I am here forever, I do know myself and can be in the utterly enjoyment of the moment. My soul is glimmering through my skin, slowly it is rising through my skin, breaking free into the cosmos, never coming back again. Only my corpse is wandering through the realms, in search of something new to contain the emptiness. Like an ocean my body starts to get crazy. In all corners, the blood is filling the nothing with storms and a black fluid. What is happening to me? I thought I am dying, but why is pain crossing every bone and muscle? All the passing time is under a great amount of hurt, only my will to understand the whole thing, lets me stand up and not falling onto the ground. Truly it is not my utmost wish to die again, but now maybe the real death is coming forward to greet me, releasing me from this damned space, bringing me to a new space of beauty and harmony, a girl can wish.

A hand on my shoulder is taking me by surprise. Who belongs this part of a body? Hopefully it is not a criminal, because I wouldn´t know what to do. Should I kick him where the pain is the greatest, if he is a man? What must I do with a female Casanova? Why must I be in such a situation? Can´t I be a happy, naïve girl with a white dress and seven little men? Whether I am a happy, naïve girl nor have I a white dress to put on. Actually, I am no beauty to be a protagonist a story, which has never happened. Frankly, I am a coward to think something like this and be in such a difficult situation.

Not fast my feet are turning around, only to be greeted by a man. He has the height of a mountain and his arms are so thick like the pair of my legs together. His face has a few deeper cuts which give him a scaring look. My face is apparently showing my emotions about him, because he is taking my arm and pulling me with him. I don´t want to question him, what will happen to me, because I do know I won´t get any useful answers. His grip is tightening around my biceps, not granting me any space to make a bee line. I thought I have got ride off demanding men in my life as I died. No, even after my death I could put my head into sand, so