Cody listened to the plan. It was not too bad. He knew that this would just be the beginning. “It’s not much different from what we have been doing all along,” Cody said.
“But it is. They are allowed to use brute force. They can bring in their weapons and use them on her,” Brandon told Cody.
“That seems a little harsh don’t you think?”
“That’s the point. The harsher we are now the quicker she will die in the end.”
Cody just shook his head. That part was the one he did not like. He knew that I was going to be in immense pain, and he knew he could not stop it. Not yet. All he can do is listen to my screams and plot his revenge on Brandon and the others. He looked around the room and saw the hunger and amusement in the others’ eyes.
They were all just as blood hungry as Brandon was “Did you already create a list of who goes in when?”
“Of course. I thought Darren would go in first. He’s a big help and deserves his shot.”
Cody looked over at Darren and could tell that he was smiling underneath his mask. Cody hated Darren because Darren always wanted to be like Brandon. He was power hungry. “You like that idea, don’t you Darren?”
“Yes, I do. What are you, jealous?” Darren asked Cody.
“No, why should I be jealous? I’m not like you who wants to be like Brandon.”
“I do not!”
“Sure you don’t Darren. Just to give you fair warning, she’ll put up a fight.”
“I like challenges. I’ll be able to handle it. I’ll have her calm in no time.”
“Calm and unconscious are two completely different things.”
“Not to me.”
“Okay! Enough! Cody, you said your piece. Darren, be careful what you say to my brother. You may be a good friend, but you have no right to talk to my brother like that,” Brandon said. He looked around the room. “Do we all understand the plan?”
“Good. Cody take Darren to see Melanie. You’re in charge of letting him out of the room once he is finished with her.”
Cody nodded. He did not want to be the one to do that. He wanted to have nothing to do with the plan. He walked over to the door and looked back at Darren. “Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner the plan is done.”
Darren followed Cody out of the room. “How much time are you going to let me have?” Darren asked Cody.
“I don’t know yet. As much as I want to, I guess. I should not let you have too much time since those other guys need to have their turn as well.” Cody walked through the gym at a quick pace. He hated this plan. Cody stopped outside the change room door.
“I’ll be out in a bit,” Darren said. He walked in to the change room and saw me lying on top of the bed, on my back, with my eyes closed. “Just the position I like.” He walked over to me and knelt between my legs. “Don’t worry Melanie. I won’t be gentle.”
I opened my eyes and looked at the guy I had not seen before. I gripped the glass tightly in my right hand. When I could tell he had a smile on his face, I swung my arm, cutting his upper left arm. I rolled away from him and stood up. “Don’t touch me,” I told him. I gripped the glass tightly, ready to strike when needed.
“You bitch!” Darren yelled at me.
“I know. This is what happens when people go through traumatic activities for fifteen hours straight.” I moved around him, leaving a good distance between us.
Darren looked at the cut. He stood up and turned around to face me. “So, we’re going to play this game. Come on!”
I just stood where I was. When he walked closer, I kept moving the piece of glass slightly. It was a way to remind him that I was still armed with a very sharp weapon and knew how to use it.
He grabbed my right arm, which was holding the piece of glass, and squeezed it. He watched the piece of glass fall and threw me back on to the bed. “Now I’ll get my revenge for this whole situation.” He pushed my legs apart and knelt between them.
I quickly grabbed another piece of glass underneath my bed, and swung it. I had cut his throat. I looked at the blood pouring from his neck and dropped the piece of glass. Before I could move away his body fell on top of me. The weight of his body hitting me caused me to yelp. He is so heavy! Blood began to move down my neck and chest as his throat still bled. It was warm. Finally, after a few minutes I began to realize that I had killed someone. It was self defence Mel. You know that. I screamed. I was terrified. Using all of my strength left I tried to push his body off of me. Still screaming I could not hear the door open. When I looked towards the doorway I saw Cody standing there. “Cody?”
Cody did not know what to say. All he saw was Darren lying on top of me, motionless. Blood was all over the bed and me. “What happened?” Cody had managed to ask me.
“I think I killed him.”
“You think you killed him?”
“Yes, I think so. I cut his arm and then his throat. He just collapsed on me. Cody, help get him off of me. I’m not strong enough to do it by myself.”
Cody nodded. He walked over to the bed and pulled Darren off of me using all of his strength. Realizing what this could do to my survival he dragged Darren’s body in to the bathroom and hid him in one the shower stalls. It would save me from being killed earlier than expected. “Get up Mel! You need to shower and change your shirt. You don’t want anyone else to notice that amount of blood on the bed and you.”
I got up and walked over to the first shower stall. I took off all of my clothes and stepped in to the stall. When the cold water that first came out of the faucet hit me I jumped. After the water warmed up I began to wash my body. The water turned red as it went down the drain. Once all the blood had been washed off and the smell of it was gone from my skin I got out of the shower. Cody was waiting for me outside of the shower with a towel for me to dry off with I grabbed it and dried myself off as fast as I could. With the minimal selection of clothing I had left I dressed myself. “What’s with the rush?”
“There are more people. If I don’t go through with this plan, we’ll both be dead.”
“I don’t like this plan so far.”
“Me either. Please don’t try to kill any more people.”
“I didn’t mean to!”
“I know. Just be careful.” Cody gave me a quick kiss and left the room.
I walked back over to the bed when I heard the door click shut. I gathered all the blood stained sheets and tossed them away. I did not want to be near them. It was a reminder of what had happened. I looked around the bed and quickly hid the pieces of glass that I had used. Although the sheets were no longer on the bed, the room still looked like it had before I had killed Darren. I heard the door open again and took a deep breath. Standing in front of me was another guy. Oh shit! The door opened again and four more guys entered the room. I’m screwed.
“Grab her wrists and her ankles. I don’t want her to fight. I just want to hear her scream,” the first guy said.
The four guys held me down on the bed each one taking either a wrist or ankle. They held me down with extreme force not letting me have any movement, forcing me to remain on my back.
“Let go of me!” I yelled. I was hoping Cody would hear me and maybe help me, but that was impossible because it went against the plan and that would give him away.
“What’s the matter pretty girl? You don’t want a knife in you?” they guy kneeling between my legs asked.
“A fucking knife? You’re going to stick a knife in me?” I started to thrash around, trying to prevent myself of that amount of pain. “Hell no! Get the fuck away from me!”
The four guys held me down, harder. Each placed one had on my wrist or ankle, and the other on my elbow or knee. It allowed for no movement. The guy with the knife put his one arm down on my ribs.
I was barely able to breathe from how much pressure he put on my ribcage. Yelling would do me no justice. I felt my pants being undone and tried to twist my upper body away. It did not work. He put more pressure on my ribs, causing me to feel pain whenever I inhaled. “You’re going to kill me! Brandon won’t be pleased if you do!”
“There’s a way to do this that won’t kill you. Say your prayers.” He stuck the knife in me.
Cody heard the loud screaming from inside the room and jumped at the painful sound. He looked out in to the gym and saw some of the students looking in his direction. It was painful and started to make him feel upset. Not wanting the students to see him upset, he turned around. The screaming was unbearable. Each time he heard it he felt worse for not being able to help me. It was not time for him to help me. He paced outside the door and cringed at every scream, every swear word, every cry for help. He stopped and leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to help calm him down. He heard footsteps approaching him and knew who they belonged to. “Are you happy now Brandon?” Cody asked him.
“I’m very pleased. Can’t you hear those amazing sounds?” Brandon asked Cody.
“I wouldn’t call them amazing. I’d call them something else.”
“Like what? Terrifying? Horrible? Erotic?”
“Not erotic. I don’t get off on this type of shit like you do.”
“I can see that.” Brandon studied Cody’s face behind the mask. The pain in Cody’s facial expression gave away how much he disliked it. “Their time is almost up. You won’t have to listen to that for a bit now.”
Cody heard the knock at the door and opened it so that the five guys could leave the room. “Are you done?” he asked the one holding the bloody knife.
“I’m good. I’ve got enough of her blood on here,” the guy told Cody. He held the knife in front of him with the point facing the ground. Blood dripped on to the floor. “I pity who ever has to go in there next.”
“You’re the last group. The rest weren’t interested,” Brandon said. “Come and tell me everything.” He walked off with the five guys, leaving Cody alone outside the door.
Cody waited till they had turned the corner before he entered the room. When he saw me, he had to lean against a wall to hold himself up. The sight was horrific. “Melanie?”
I lied there on the bed, limp. Tears were streaming down my face while I just stared up in the ceiling with no expression on my face. I could feel the blood on me and coming out of me. The feel of the cuts inside of me and knife caused the tears to continue to come. I was in pain. There were no better words to describe how I felt. I looked over at Cody and saw the hurt and fear in his eyes. “Am I still alive?” I asked him.
I would rather be dead then to have to deal with this amount of pain. “Are they gone?”
“Do I look that bad?”
Cody nodded. His mouth had gone dry. He desperately wanted to gather me up in his arms and carry me away from this agony. Cody slowly walked over to me, his entire body shaking. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Could you pull up my pants and underwear for me? I don’t want to see all that blood.”
“No problem.” Cody swallowed what little saliva he had had in his mouth. Cody pulled up my pants and underwear with trembling hands. They had begun to shake when he had first heard the screaming.
“How come you didn’t come in?”
“Brandon came over and started talking to me.”
I nodded because I understood what he was saying. “I need to stand up.”
Cody nodded. He grabbed my hands and pulled me up to my feet. He pulled me against him so that I could use his body to stand up. “You lost a lot more blood. Just try and take it slow. You don’t need to give in just yet.”
I closed my eyes and leaned against him. My lower body had gone numb from the pain and shock. “How long were they doing that to me?”
“Too long. Maybe ten minutes.”
I did not say anything. For ten minutes my inner essence of being a woman was destroyed. Cut to shreds. “I need to sit back down.”
Cody led me over to one of the benches and helped me sit down. “Are you sure that there is nothing else I can do?”
I nodded. I was not in the mood to deal with anyone right now. I wanted to be alone. Gather all of my thoughts. I knew that I was going insane. That I was losing everything I ever had. “Can I be alone for a little while? Is that okay?”
“No problem. I’ll come and check on you. Just relax. Take a shower, a nice hot one. It may help.”
“I’ll try.” I watched him leave and started to cry. I curled up in a ball, pulling my knees close to my chest and cried. The pain was unbearable. The thing that worried me the most was the fact that the damage may have prevented me from ever having children. It could prevent me from even enjoying pleasure again. I looked through the spaces between the wood and saw a little puddle of blood forming underneath me. Turning my head slowly I looked over at the bed and saw the amount of blood on it. There was a lot. “Fuck!” I rested my forehead against the top of my knees with tears still streaming down my face.
I will restate, I am not a professionally published author, so my advice may seem to have no authority, but I have been doing enough writing to understand what is good and bad.
My blog topic for this advice post is....Ego's! Oh yes, even some new writers trying to learn or even write a novel have an ego. It is great to be proud of your work, do not get me wrong. I am proud of my accomplishments, but I never go around telling people I am the best writer, my books are amazing. In all honesty, I think my books are crap; then again, I am very judgemental.
If you get one person to read over your work and say it is great, that is fantastic. Be proud! But never go out and say you are the next best writer out there and people are foolish not to have you. This is not the case because there are thousands, if not millions, of other writers out there. And think about it, you walk in or send out a letter full of your ego bragging about your book, it will get you nowhere. Agents and publishers do not care how great you think your own book is, they are the ones to decide.
Be confident though. This is your work. When talking to people be able to talk freely about your book in a confident manner.
I guess the difference between ego and confidence is one word "Best". Your work can be good, but it is not the best. One day critics will decide that for you. Seriously, this is going to sound wrong, but I like hearing the bad news about my work.
Why? I can easily change my writing to make it better. If I had an ego, I would refuse.
What do you guys think? Would you rather meet a confident writer, or an egotistical one?
Frustration has sunk in, again. Not just because of lack of writing time, but because of what people are posting about being a writer.
I understand that it is natural for aspiring writers to want to become wealthy from their talent, but that is not that point of writing. Writing is something to be proud of and not need to have money to show that off. It’s a hobby, a passion, a lover, anything you want to call it.
But, if all you have are dollar signs in your eyes you are writing for all the wrong reasons.
Listen up all you aspiring writers. DO NOT WRITE FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF MAKING MONEY.
Think about it, most writers you met are not going to tell all aspiring writers “Think you book is amazing and will make you wealthy.” In fact, most writers will tell you that their books are not that great.
I know that out of my massive stack of journals all filled with my novels lies not a single amazing novel. Well, I guess a novel that will not win prestigious awards and be considered an amazing piece of literature.
I am honest. When I write, I write for myself, not for the interest of making money.
You must write for yourself because your writing will help you understand yourself better than anyone else. It’s something so intimate that sharing it, and being able to share it with thousands of people, is a gift.
Enough of my ranting, again. To sum up my advice, do not write for the sole purpose of becoming rich. You must write for yourself and only yourself. It should not matter if you get published, rich, or even noticed. It’s all about how happy you are with your work. My books are something I am proud of and can say they are all my own.
No money signs in my eyes, just pen and blank paper.
Here is where I have a predicament with the writer’s of the world. Do any actually hear that they want to help other writers? If you do hear such things, please tell me because I am unable to find a writer wanting to help.
Yes, finding writing advice is nice, and rare. The advice is primarily during an interview, which I understand is one of the only ways to get advice.
I may not be the world’s biggest author, or even a credible one, but I do have something different to offer. I offer advice, inspiration and encouragement.
It is hard to pick up a pen or hard to begin typing a story idea out. It’s not as easy as people think. A writer cannot sit and start typing and like magic, a book is produced. I tend to stare at paper for hours wondering if I can produce the idea going through my mind. Most writers decide to write what I call “feeler-ideas” and try to develop the first ten pages. If the idea is tough to write after ten pages it will need to be left aside.
I know that some people decide to type their books out first. There is nothing wrong with that. The only time I type up my story is if I am producing an idea and I do not have spare paper around, or when I am typing up a completed novel to edit.
What I am saying is that writing is hard and without support it is impossible to be one. I rely on support from family and friends, but at times the support is not there. Not unusual because people cannot be around to support me 100% of the time.
If I am going to be an author I plan to support other writers out there. No matter what, I want to inspire people to write, to make them feel like writing is important to them and that goals can be reached. I am here to support people, not hinder. If I cannot be a published author doesn’t mean I have to stop others from trying to be one and succeeding.
Well, it is best that I not ramble more than I have. I just wanted to express the importance of support and being inspired with a writer. Enjoy this quote because what is saying is true.
“Without words, without writing and without books there would be no history, there could be no concept of humanity.” ~ Hermann Hesse