Trigger Warning: This story contains violence, child abuse, murder, blood, and self-harm. Please read at your own risk. IF you notice someone you know suffering from child abuse or any kind of abuse, please seek help.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold."
- Old Klingon Proverb -
In the dark, she was ventilating. Curling up like a fragile cat, an oxygen tube running beside her, she gasped for air. Taking a closer look at her, the twenty-seven years old woman was twitching in pain. She hit her chest as if it would make her breathe normally again.
Her face was wrenching in pain. The pain that only time could heal. Tears streamed down her face. Now she was hitting her head on the floor desperately. She just wanted this pain to be gone. She wanted to sleep and then went to work like ordinary people.
Tick, tock. The clock was ticking, slowly but sure, she breathed again. "Crap!" she sighed. "Why is this happening again? For how long can I endure this?" complained her.
Glancing at the clock, she cursed, "Shit! I have work tomorrow." Then she went back to sleep. She had been like this for like two years now. She got used to it as if she didn't just have an episode. After hitting her pillow, she closed her lids and slept soundly.
Her name was Noe. She was a simple woman with a steady job, a pretty smile, and highly independent. She was a typical twenty-seven-year-old woman. However, sadly enough, her life was never perfect. Let's say it was hell before.
People come and go. This concept was clear as daylight. Still, it left something on you and affected your thinking and actions. The experience of losing cost you a scar; some might be deep, and others might be shallow. The pain was there, buried down in your heart and consciousness.
With a little trigger, the scars burst like vines, enveloping you with emptiness, desperation, and rage. Yet, the worst thing those scars could do to you was hopelessness.
For Noe, living as an orphan was hell. You got to figure out how cruel life was at an early age. Her life was practically tragic. Actually, life wouldn't be so harsh to her if her sibling cared for her. But, nah, God is rumored merciful to those who need and believe Him. Ironically, He seemed to turn a blind eye.
Her brother, or let's call him James, was a dick. He had a family and job, but he was a nut, alcoholic maniac who never gave a damn about his only sister, a ten-year-old girl who had just lost her mother, their mother. He called their mother a Bitch for not being able to support him when their father died. Despite that, he supported her until middle school.
He paid her tuition and fed her. The best part was he treated her like a punching bag. He always got home drunk and beat the crap out of her. Poor Noe had bruises all over her abdomen. James was smart enough not to hurt her in the face or arms. His beating and resentment were bitter and more painful the more he drank.
You might wonder, where was his wife? She was there in the house, ignoring her cries. But deep down, Noe understood that she would be the next punching bag if she made a noise. Mira was an ordinary Japanese housewife, very delicate and delightful on the outside. She babbled about how perfect her life was to their neighbors. She had a loving husband with an excellent job and a perfect child.
'What a full of crap.' That was how Noe smirked at Mira's multifaceted lies while folding a black origami paper in her hands.
Mira was grateful when Noe came to their house. She fed her and gave her a warm blanket to keep her warm in this hell house. Once a week, stepping lightly inside her room, she kindly bought her ointment. She was smiling with her teeth out, but Noe could notice her eyes twinkling devilishly. "Noe-chan, here, put this ointment so that your wound can heal quickly," said she in her sickeningly soft voice.
Two years went by. The beating never stopped. Since relying on someone else wouldn't lessen her suffering, she ended it herself. In every kick she took in those years, she cursed and promised to kill him with her hands.
On a nice summer night, the moon lightened the study room. Fireworks colored the sky; red, blue, yellow, and boom! People cheered. James sat down in his chair, cold and unmoved. Blood streamed down his slithered neck. A black bird origami perched on his wound. Noe watched her ugly brother and waved. "Sayonara, Brother. Rest in peace."
On that summer night, Mira came down screaming and called the police. Her voice trembled in fear. Deep down, she was thrilled. Finally, she said goodbye to the haunting nightmare.