♥.-For Once, I Don't Want to Scream-.♥

[I dream of a broken heart
splitting apart in the sky,
and slowly but surely, it diminishes..
I feel your cold hand against my bare skin
and it provokes me to wake]
I look up to see your face
Pulling your lips to a half-smile
red lipstick painted on your lips..
I cringe slightly,
as you plunge your nail into my naked stomach,
Extracting it carefully,
relishing the moment the blood starts to drip
running your tongue across the length of blood
smearing your red lipstick across the wound..
I examine the room to look upon hundreds of chains,
hanging orderly, and splattered with blood.
I look further, and see the messages on the wall,
Once written in crimson,
but the blood is stale, and turned brown.
"Did you think you'd find yourself here?
Face these walls, cringe in fear..
Or embrace it..''

I stare in confusion as you walk around the room.

Half naked, in bra and underwear, searching for something..

But what? Why? I can't help but ponder.

When I see you pull out a shiny scalpel, I know.

But I'm not scared.

I'm not shaking.

In the books I've read, people are shaking, pleading for their lives.

Had reality not sunk in?

Am I some sort of emotionless zombie?

I look to my arms and legs that are bound,

and the tape that holds still over my mouth.

I didn't want to scream.

(There was no need to.)

I didn't plan this.

(But I wanted it.)

I watch the blade glint in the low light,

as it entices me, I hear her talk,

a low murmur,

''Aren't you scared?''

She drug the scalpel carefully across her wrist, lightly, so it wouldn't kill her, but enough so that it drew blood.

''You do realize, you're not getting out of this, right?''

I looked up at her, realizing the ductape was still on my mouth.

I bit a hole through it, and calmly spoke.

''Yes.''

She looked at me. Smiling. Then proceeded her intentions.

She took the scalpel, and ran it across my stomach.

I watched, intregued at this. Almost amused.

I felt the heat from pain begin to simmer across the wound.

stinging slightly, but the cut was so surgical, that it didn't put off much pain.

She began examining my organs. Pulling them out carefully,

First my intestines. Layed out in a tangled mass on my skin,

covered in the thick, rich blood.

Then she sliced them. Carefully cutting off their blood supply first.

Like a live auptopsy..

She proceeded to pull out and cut out the rest, in an orderly manner.

I stared, amazed at this. The pain was throbbing inside of me, seeing as I only had my heart and lungs left, but I continued to watch,

amazed by the blood that held me suspended to life,

flowing out of the wound,

held inside of my now almost empty organ cavity.

She looked up at me, smiled, and said,

''Now, we'll get rid of this god forsaken heart.''

She grabbed ahold of it, as I felt her hand inside of my chest.

She started to pull, a throbbing pain ingulfing me.

But I didn't mind.

This was the end...

But it would be peaceful.

No more pain.

She ripped more viciously, tearing it out.

For the last moment, I saw my heart beat before my eyes,

and then I was gone..