"Knock! Knock! knock! sang the front door.
The Certainly knocked the smug off his face as his eyes shot towards the broken window behind me. "Maybe it's Anastasia", the hopeful thought that rushed at me as he walked to the window, stepping and kicking loudly on the glass that littered the floor. For a moment I honestly thought that he would jump out and never come back. Alas, he didn't give in to the cowardly nature that hid behind his maroon suit.
He then walked past me and exited the room, making me wonder why he'd worn such big boots which a suit. Maybe as a weapon, and to also help him kick through my window. Yet, now he'd just walked past me with a 12cm piece of glass.
A flood of thoughts instantly washed over my mind - what if its aunt Anastasia or even her neighbor, worse yet my own mother. So I raced against time and tried to loosen the rope just enough for me to reach into my pocket and grab my phone. The artificial/electrical light eventually faded in the brightness of the emerging sunlight which slowly but surely invading my room.
When another knock struck into my eardrums, it actually knocked an idea into my head and I quickly broke a sweat whilst using my feet to scan the floor for nearby glass. I finally stepped on a promising one and dragged it into sight with my feet before reaching for it with my bare hand. Excitement, added with hope, got the best of me and left my hand covered in bloody cuts as I briskly attempted to cut the rope.
Victory seemed inevitable and as much as I was sweating, I could taste the bitterness of reality as it slowly slithered down my dry tongue. Blood drips were all over the floor by the time I broke free from the ropes and hesitantly ignored the urge to call the cops, nor pat my stiff, burning and itching bum. The culprit was lurking nearby.
I tried to get up but doing so just woke up the starving monster that had been silently sleeping in my tummy. Exhaustion had clutched onto me. Nevertheless, I got up and quietly dawdled towards the broken window, carefully dodging the pieces of glass which laid cluttered across the floor. In pursuit of stealth and freedom, I dared not to step one for I just couldn't afford to make a noise. My life depended upon it.
"What the fudge babes. Thought we'd planned to get married Ashleigh... Or maybe you're trying to separate our relationship again. His voice startled me, until his laugh shook my soul with fear, as spears of rage shot from his eyes into mine.
That laugh of his left me feeling despaired of ever escaping the nightmare. Only he, stood between my hollow escape and I. So I walked backwards, as he lifted his hand and pressed it against his neck despite the bloody hues of red which had tainted that piece of glass.
"Take the dress and put it on." He commanded before a serene smile stretched into his cheeks.
"Not until you've told me what you've done... Why is there blood on that piece of glass." Anger ran into my veins, driving adrenaline towards my cuts and onto my piece of glass. Desperation to end his miserable life had consumed me.
"You'll find out in the kitchen," he paused to yawn, "we don't time for distractions." He mocked me with cry-baby gestures as he walked towards me, seemingly getting taller with each step he took.
'You'll pay for this, I swear"
"Dear Leigh, I'm already sponsoring our wedding, now put on the dress and come with me"
My lips became idle. Shots of fury had flocked and tightened my throat and blocked my response.
"So hurry up we have to go, my guy's on the way... We have to be in church by...."
Quickly, I interrupted his sentence and threw him with my piece of glass. He effortlessly dodged it as though he'd read through my thoughts. But on the second time he wasn't so lucky, he was busy sniggeringly grinning at me and blowing me kisses while looking at my toes when I suddenly struck his eye. He groaned like a big baby as he fell to his knees, bring his hand to his face.
Next thing I knew, I had instinctively turned around and began running around to the front yard. Blood also running down my arms and thighs from the several cuts that the broken window had left etched upon my body. My energy fueled by my panic; my adrenaline overtaking my pain. Anxiety blocking out any sounds from my ears, including my own voice, as I felt my vocal chords as my voice burst out in search of help.
That's when I saw several by-passers looking and running in my direction before jumping over my metre-high wall as I fell onto my cold, moist lawn.
"Call the cops... Need an ambulance... She's bleeding... Dying.. Injured.. Hurt." Some of the distinct voices I heard as the moist grass brushed my hair and ticklishly nursed my wounds. Their voices hovering around me and their shadows were cast above me. Cast above my fighting spirit as their amused, confused and concerned chatter continued to fill my atmosphere and left a deadly dirge marching in my eardrums.
As my mind and soul began yearning to sail to waters of great ecstasy, my witnesses' glimmering eyes ambiguously alluded me of a symbol of comfort as their eluding faces shredded my emotions into unrecognisable fragments, scantily distorting my heart of its tranquility.
My breaths grew hurried as my tears began rushing out of my eyes and I couldn't stop them. Instead, I began shuddering on that grass. I was unable to stop my head fron spinning nor contain my conscience from flowing out within my tears. With my voice and care no longer present, soaked and drenched on the ground I laid. My heart still beating, but with a fractured mind... As my internal anxiety and insanity began strolling amongst the hundreds of Billabong's which once formed my sea of thoughts and solidified my conscientious mind; in search of my coronet.
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That's when the cops, sluggishly jumped over a neighbor's wall and chased the formally dressed culprit. Maybe they caught him, maybe they didn't, were what the witnesses thought as they paid more attention to the sleeping beauty in front of them. Some of them screaming after him as they tried to chase him.
It was also in that very moment when he, her former lover, her first true lover, her high school sweetheart, her unforgotten lover, her dead lover, Carl, heard two gunshots and screams from the culprit as I stood by her side. His ghostly presence unnoticed as he infiltrated the crowded circle of witnesses as they surrounded her.
He ran his warm fingers above her smooth skin and all the scars which were now engraved upon it. My other hand resentfully squeezing the two poems which her psychopath of an ex lover had written her as he watched her sleep, unaware that her guardian angel was beside her all along, his ghostly presence unfelt. The two poem of which one he had written in prison and the other while she was knocked out. Poems where he'd expressed to loving her too much, and even explained how he could never bring himself to had her no matter how angry he may have been with her whilst behind bars.
Sounds of sirens as an ambulance rushed to the scene and paramedics rushed out, and came towards Ashleigh, whilst curious eyes pretended to care as they watched the whole incident happened. Their eyes plagued by ignorance, as Carl turned around and stepped into the air, to walk back to the heavens, his ghostly sighs and footsteps unheard, possibly sunk beneath the ambulances sirens...
His ascending heavy, as he could no longer stay by her side, he had been called to a higher service. His bright halo delightfully matching and complementing his blindingly bright garment.