RL Zoma
Ok, even for me this is a bit disturbing. If you don't mind disturbing then read. I won't say enjoy because. . .yea. It's just not enjoyable.
Also, I couldn't help but put Derek and J'lor in. I'm sure they'll enjoy it if they read. No. . .really. ;p
Zoe sat in the garden. She liked the garden. It was green except when it was not. When it was not she sat in it anyway, often being found by an orderly and brought gently inside from the snow or rain. They all treated her gently.
‘They’re afraid of you.’
“Yes, I know. But I won’t hurt them. I love them.”
‘You loved your family too.’
“But they hurt me. They had to know. They had to know not to hurt to me.”
The people in the hospital tried to tell her that the doll did not talk to her. That she was just ‘projecting her subconscious thoughts onto the inanimate object.’ The people in the hospital were crazy. Of course the doll talked to her. She heard the doll talk to her. It was old and sometimes smelled of mold. It sat in the garden with her now, the rain just starting. There was time before the orderlies came to find her.
“Why don’t they understand why I had to do it? Why doesn’t anyone understand? They hurt me.”
‘Did they?’
“Yes.”
The doll knew. The doll had been told everything after she had found it. Separating her from the doll was impossible. The first time they had tried three people had been sent to the hospital and she had been restrained for several days. Until she made it clear she would not hurt them again. Until, one night, he brought her doll back. She didn’t ask how he got things. He got things. He got her doll. At first she thought he would want something in return, but he did not. Not yet.
Maybe the doll was forgetting. Or maybe the doll wanted to hear again. The rain fell and Zoe laid down on her back, thin hospital clothes soon flat and soaked against her body. Her brother and her played in the rain. They always did. The rain and the snow and the sunshine and they were always outside.
Their parents worried that Zoe and Frank were too close, but the children just laughed when they heard this and ran off to play again. They were not ‘too close’. There was nothing like that going on. It would have, quite possibly, in the end been better if it had just been that. If they had just been doing unnatural things with each other. Instead, Zoe was obsessed with her little brother. She loved him. More than anything.
So when she was just turned twenty and pretending she wanted to finish community college and Frank, just seventeen, brought /her/ home things changed. He didn’t have time for her anymore. There were no more walks in snow and wrestling in the rain, and throwing eggs at the nosy neighbors car as it drove by at night. Maybe she would have been ok, but then Frank betrayed her.
He took /her/, took Sarah to their place. Their special place. Zoe saw them there. Sarah was bad and Frank was bad and she ran home after seeing them be bad together. When her parents found out what happened they just told her to leave them be.
Leave him be. How could she leave him be? She loved him. He was her little brother. Wasn’t she enough? Didn’t he love her? No. He loved Sarah. Sarah had to pay. She would pay first. Then Frank. Then her parents.
As she remembered, fond smile curving her lips up, the orderlies began their search. She never tried to leave the hospital grounds. The place the court had sent her to when finding her insane and therefore not responsible for what she did. What she had tried to explain she was responsible for that stupid lawyer had said that was all the evidence they should need. Sometimes at night she pretended she got out and visited the lawyer. The lawyer was not happy to see her, but in the end she was happy. Zoe was happy as she showed her doll how to treat people who betrayed you.
Sarah had been first. The grass under her was wet and she clutched her doll close, whispering the words its ear as she squirmed in grass and mud. Sarah had been sleeping. It was sloppy. She should have been awake, but her family was in the house. So she just crept in the back door and to her room. Her room. It stank of her and Zoe had held her breath the whole time. She didn’t even get to enjoy it. Not much. Because she had to bring the knife down on her throat first. To quiet her. She had to be quiet when the knife did the rest of the work. When she got to play with Sarah too. When she was done Sarah knew better. The room stank of her still, but it was better. It was Sarah smell that Zoe had made. Before she left she kissed her and forgave her. It wasn’t her fault.
Covered in blood she crept out the window this time, trying not to laugh. It had been so easy. Now her parents. No, Frank.
‘They’ll find you soon.’
“Shut up. This is the good part. Listen.”
Pulling the doll up she laid it across her face, smelling the old cloth, the hospital smell and the mold. Love. The rain fell on her, cold, but she knew how to warm herself up. She could warm herself up by telling the story. The doctor told her she couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t be excited by it because it was wrong. But it felt right. It felt right to have both hands free as she whispered the gleeful words to her doll so she could touch herself. She was going to be cold if she didn’t warm herself up.
Skip over getting home. Over running through the night covered in blood and heart singing. Skip over getting back into the house. Get to the good parts that warmed her up the same way her hands warmed her up after she peeled off rain soaked clothes. Frank slept in the basement. Her parents upstairs. He wouldn’t know. Wouldn’t know until she got to him. Them first. Her first.
They slept the sleep of the drugged. Both of them had been hooked on sleeping pills as long as she could remember. That made it easier. They didn’t feel her crawl into the bed after she’d stripped off her clothes. They were ruined. Besides, it felt good to smell the blood all over, not just with her nose. Mother first. She played a little before she had to end it because father was waking up. Mother hadn’t made a sound. Father had. Not many, but some. Not enough to wake up Frank. Mother’s breath rattled as she died slowly. Zoe liked to think she watched what happened to Father.
When she was done she stood and looked at them both. It was so pretty. So very pretty and red and hot and it smelt good. One hand clenched the knife and the other rubbed the blood into her skin. She had to make herself pretty before she saw Frank.
‘They know where you are. They’re coming now.’
“Shut up! I want to finish. I want to finish. Frank. Remember Frank. I told you about him, but you never met him.”
If it was the right orderly he wouldn’t care. He would watch her. Would watch her squirm in the grass and the rain as she slid her hands between her legs and over her breasts. He liked to watch. He never touched, but she knew he touched some of the others. Not her. He knew better. She’d taught him. But she let him watch. Please let it be him.
Frank was sleeping. She stood over his bed and watched him, breath quiet and slow. Looking at him like this she knew what her parents had meant. When they had worried she liked something wrong. She liked this. Liked knowing a few streets over they’d find Sarah. That in the morning they’d find mother and father. Find Frank. But not yet. She loved her brother. Would show him how much now.
He slept heavily. It wasn’t until he felt her weight atop him that he started to wake. Wasn’t until her hand, sticky with blood, covered his mouth, that his eyes opened. “Shhh. Shhh Frank. It’s ok. It’s Zoe. I love you Frank. She won’t hurt you anymore. They won’t hurt you anymore. We’re alone.” The smell made him nervous, but she pet his head before the knife bit into his hand. He screamed.
None of the others had screamed. But that was ok. Frank could scream. She wanted to hear it. He tried to fight her, but she was on top and he was just waking up. He always had trouble waking up. When the knife found his other hand he struggled more, but in the end he couldn’t beat her. She’d been practicing all night while he slept. When she was done you could tell it was Frank. She kissed him goodnight. Pulled the blankets up over them and snuggled against her brother, the knife standing in his chest. That’s where the cops found her. Curled up around her dead brother.
‘Here they come.’
It didn’t matter. Didn’t matter because she remembered how he felt. How it had felt to sleep in his warmth. Even when she woke and he was cold she could remember, could feel all the warmth dried on her. She finished just as the orderlies grabbed her arm. It didn’t matter. Didn’t matter that they hauled her off with her doll clutched in one hand. She’d gotten there and her body shook with the warm feeling of what she would be told was an inappropriate sexual response. How did they know?
Three nights later he came to her as she slept and whispered the plan. He was getting out. Taking his brother with him. Had to. She understood. He had to take care of his brother like she had hers. Make him safe. Her and the doll listened as the blue-eyed man whispered to her. He knew how to talk to her. He was so quiet and nice. When he left he even patted her on the head. This was good. She slept, dreaming of the blue-eyed man and how he would keep his promise when out. Would visit her lawyer. He promised.
The next morning, when the orderlies were waking people up they found the woman two beds down from her dead. Panic. Zoe giggled to herself. It bad been so easy. She’d let the doll help. It was not as fun as the knife, but it was so quiet. Her and the doll had to be quiet in their bed. Had to not let anyone know what they did under the blankets. It always felt good after they were dead.
The orderly was bent over the dead woman. He liked to watch. He touched others. But never her and that was ok because she would touch him now. She didn’t have to be quiet now so she screamed and threw herself at him. They both fell on top of the body and she bit his back, enjoying the way he screamed. The way they all screamed. Loud was best. No one tried to stop her.
She had enough time to teach him not to touch. She clawed at his face when he got on top of her and bit his hand again. He wouldn’t be pretty she thought. Not after her finger found his eye. This feeling she remembered and shared with her doll. The squishy part of the eye.
When they finally pulled her off she fought more. She was supposed to fight. Make a lot of noise and distract them all. This she could do. Because he had got her the doll back. The blue-eyed man was good to her. Had patted her head and called her good. So when she got the chance she broke away, got out before they locked things down. Made them chase her.
She tore off her nightgown as she ran, clutching her doll to her chest and whispering to it.
“This is fun!”
‘They’ll catch you. I liked his eye.’
“It feels good. Feel.”
And her thumb pressed into the doll’s threaded eye, tearing the threads as she ran.
‘Keep running. Do the other one.’
So she did, screaming and running until she made it to the door to the roof. It was supposed to be locked, but wasn’t always. The orderlies went up there to smoke. And to bring patients sometimes. It didn’t matter if she was trapped. She ran and ran until she hit the edge of the roof and then danced along it.
In the distance she could see the blue-eyed man lead his brother away. To safety. They were safe. That was what mattered. She watched them until footsteps could be heard behind her.
Then she turned too fast. They didn’t reach her before her and the doll fell. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter when she hit the ground. It was warm again. Her own warm and she whispered to her doll until it was dark. Until her and the doll were quiet.
“You see. It worked. They got away. And now we’re free too. I love you.”
‘I love you too, Zoe. Doesn’t it feel good? I feel it too.’
“I love you.”
The orderlies found her, dead from the fall with the doll lying in her blood. She was buried with it in a pauper’s grave. No one could bring themselves to take it from her. That was after they realized the other two were gone. After the authorities were called in.
By then they were gone. Brothers, terrorists they were called for blowing up a building downtown. Political activities they claimed to be. Derek did the talking for them both because Jason hadn’t said a word since he’d found out his wife and daughter were in the building. The public wanted them dead, the same as they had wanted Zoe dead. All of them instead were committed. All of them were now free of the hospital.
Also, I couldn't help but put Derek and J'lor in. I'm sure they'll enjoy it if they read. No. . .really. ;p
Zoe sat in the garden. She liked the garden. It was green except when it was not. When it was not she sat in it anyway, often being found by an orderly and brought gently inside from the snow or rain. They all treated her gently.
‘They’re afraid of you.’
“Yes, I know. But I won’t hurt them. I love them.”
‘You loved your family too.’
“But they hurt me. They had to know. They had to know not to hurt to me.”
The people in the hospital tried to tell her that the doll did not talk to her. That she was just ‘projecting her subconscious thoughts onto the inanimate object.’ The people in the hospital were crazy. Of course the doll talked to her. She heard the doll talk to her. It was old and sometimes smelled of mold. It sat in the garden with her now, the rain just starting. There was time before the orderlies came to find her.
“Why don’t they understand why I had to do it? Why doesn’t anyone understand? They hurt me.”
‘Did they?’
“Yes.”
The doll knew. The doll had been told everything after she had found it. Separating her from the doll was impossible. The first time they had tried three people had been sent to the hospital and she had been restrained for several days. Until she made it clear she would not hurt them again. Until, one night, he brought her doll back. She didn’t ask how he got things. He got things. He got her doll. At first she thought he would want something in return, but he did not. Not yet.
Maybe the doll was forgetting. Or maybe the doll wanted to hear again. The rain fell and Zoe laid down on her back, thin hospital clothes soon flat and soaked against her body. Her brother and her played in the rain. They always did. The rain and the snow and the sunshine and they were always outside.
Their parents worried that Zoe and Frank were too close, but the children just laughed when they heard this and ran off to play again. They were not ‘too close’. There was nothing like that going on. It would have, quite possibly, in the end been better if it had just been that. If they had just been doing unnatural things with each other. Instead, Zoe was obsessed with her little brother. She loved him. More than anything.
So when she was just turned twenty and pretending she wanted to finish community college and Frank, just seventeen, brought /her/ home things changed. He didn’t have time for her anymore. There were no more walks in snow and wrestling in the rain, and throwing eggs at the nosy neighbors car as it drove by at night. Maybe she would have been ok, but then Frank betrayed her.
He took /her/, took Sarah to their place. Their special place. Zoe saw them there. Sarah was bad and Frank was bad and she ran home after seeing them be bad together. When her parents found out what happened they just told her to leave them be.
Leave him be. How could she leave him be? She loved him. He was her little brother. Wasn’t she enough? Didn’t he love her? No. He loved Sarah. Sarah had to pay. She would pay first. Then Frank. Then her parents.
As she remembered, fond smile curving her lips up, the orderlies began their search. She never tried to leave the hospital grounds. The place the court had sent her to when finding her insane and therefore not responsible for what she did. What she had tried to explain she was responsible for that stupid lawyer had said that was all the evidence they should need. Sometimes at night she pretended she got out and visited the lawyer. The lawyer was not happy to see her, but in the end she was happy. Zoe was happy as she showed her doll how to treat people who betrayed you.
Sarah had been first. The grass under her was wet and she clutched her doll close, whispering the words its ear as she squirmed in grass and mud. Sarah had been sleeping. It was sloppy. She should have been awake, but her family was in the house. So she just crept in the back door and to her room. Her room. It stank of her and Zoe had held her breath the whole time. She didn’t even get to enjoy it. Not much. Because she had to bring the knife down on her throat first. To quiet her. She had to be quiet when the knife did the rest of the work. When she got to play with Sarah too. When she was done Sarah knew better. The room stank of her still, but it was better. It was Sarah smell that Zoe had made. Before she left she kissed her and forgave her. It wasn’t her fault.
Covered in blood she crept out the window this time, trying not to laugh. It had been so easy. Now her parents. No, Frank.
‘They’ll find you soon.’
“Shut up. This is the good part. Listen.”
Pulling the doll up she laid it across her face, smelling the old cloth, the hospital smell and the mold. Love. The rain fell on her, cold, but she knew how to warm herself up. She could warm herself up by telling the story. The doctor told her she couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t be excited by it because it was wrong. But it felt right. It felt right to have both hands free as she whispered the gleeful words to her doll so she could touch herself. She was going to be cold if she didn’t warm herself up.
Skip over getting home. Over running through the night covered in blood and heart singing. Skip over getting back into the house. Get to the good parts that warmed her up the same way her hands warmed her up after she peeled off rain soaked clothes. Frank slept in the basement. Her parents upstairs. He wouldn’t know. Wouldn’t know until she got to him. Them first. Her first.
They slept the sleep of the drugged. Both of them had been hooked on sleeping pills as long as she could remember. That made it easier. They didn’t feel her crawl into the bed after she’d stripped off her clothes. They were ruined. Besides, it felt good to smell the blood all over, not just with her nose. Mother first. She played a little before she had to end it because father was waking up. Mother hadn’t made a sound. Father had. Not many, but some. Not enough to wake up Frank. Mother’s breath rattled as she died slowly. Zoe liked to think she watched what happened to Father.
When she was done she stood and looked at them both. It was so pretty. So very pretty and red and hot and it smelt good. One hand clenched the knife and the other rubbed the blood into her skin. She had to make herself pretty before she saw Frank.
‘They know where you are. They’re coming now.’
“Shut up! I want to finish. I want to finish. Frank. Remember Frank. I told you about him, but you never met him.”
If it was the right orderly he wouldn’t care. He would watch her. Would watch her squirm in the grass and the rain as she slid her hands between her legs and over her breasts. He liked to watch. He never touched, but she knew he touched some of the others. Not her. He knew better. She’d taught him. But she let him watch. Please let it be him.
Frank was sleeping. She stood over his bed and watched him, breath quiet and slow. Looking at him like this she knew what her parents had meant. When they had worried she liked something wrong. She liked this. Liked knowing a few streets over they’d find Sarah. That in the morning they’d find mother and father. Find Frank. But not yet. She loved her brother. Would show him how much now.
He slept heavily. It wasn’t until he felt her weight atop him that he started to wake. Wasn’t until her hand, sticky with blood, covered his mouth, that his eyes opened. “Shhh. Shhh Frank. It’s ok. It’s Zoe. I love you Frank. She won’t hurt you anymore. They won’t hurt you anymore. We’re alone.” The smell made him nervous, but she pet his head before the knife bit into his hand. He screamed.
None of the others had screamed. But that was ok. Frank could scream. She wanted to hear it. He tried to fight her, but she was on top and he was just waking up. He always had trouble waking up. When the knife found his other hand he struggled more, but in the end he couldn’t beat her. She’d been practicing all night while he slept. When she was done you could tell it was Frank. She kissed him goodnight. Pulled the blankets up over them and snuggled against her brother, the knife standing in his chest. That’s where the cops found her. Curled up around her dead brother.
‘Here they come.’
It didn’t matter. Didn’t matter because she remembered how he felt. How it had felt to sleep in his warmth. Even when she woke and he was cold she could remember, could feel all the warmth dried on her. She finished just as the orderlies grabbed her arm. It didn’t matter. Didn’t matter that they hauled her off with her doll clutched in one hand. She’d gotten there and her body shook with the warm feeling of what she would be told was an inappropriate sexual response. How did they know?
Three nights later he came to her as she slept and whispered the plan. He was getting out. Taking his brother with him. Had to. She understood. He had to take care of his brother like she had hers. Make him safe. Her and the doll listened as the blue-eyed man whispered to her. He knew how to talk to her. He was so quiet and nice. When he left he even patted her on the head. This was good. She slept, dreaming of the blue-eyed man and how he would keep his promise when out. Would visit her lawyer. He promised.
The next morning, when the orderlies were waking people up they found the woman two beds down from her dead. Panic. Zoe giggled to herself. It bad been so easy. She’d let the doll help. It was not as fun as the knife, but it was so quiet. Her and the doll had to be quiet in their bed. Had to not let anyone know what they did under the blankets. It always felt good after they were dead.
The orderly was bent over the dead woman. He liked to watch. He touched others. But never her and that was ok because she would touch him now. She didn’t have to be quiet now so she screamed and threw herself at him. They both fell on top of the body and she bit his back, enjoying the way he screamed. The way they all screamed. Loud was best. No one tried to stop her.
She had enough time to teach him not to touch. She clawed at his face when he got on top of her and bit his hand again. He wouldn’t be pretty she thought. Not after her finger found his eye. This feeling she remembered and shared with her doll. The squishy part of the eye.
When they finally pulled her off she fought more. She was supposed to fight. Make a lot of noise and distract them all. This she could do. Because he had got her the doll back. The blue-eyed man was good to her. Had patted her head and called her good. So when she got the chance she broke away, got out before they locked things down. Made them chase her.
She tore off her nightgown as she ran, clutching her doll to her chest and whispering to it.
“This is fun!”
‘They’ll catch you. I liked his eye.’
“It feels good. Feel.”
And her thumb pressed into the doll’s threaded eye, tearing the threads as she ran.
‘Keep running. Do the other one.’
So she did, screaming and running until she made it to the door to the roof. It was supposed to be locked, but wasn’t always. The orderlies went up there to smoke. And to bring patients sometimes. It didn’t matter if she was trapped. She ran and ran until she hit the edge of the roof and then danced along it.
In the distance she could see the blue-eyed man lead his brother away. To safety. They were safe. That was what mattered. She watched them until footsteps could be heard behind her.
Then she turned too fast. They didn’t reach her before her and the doll fell. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter when she hit the ground. It was warm again. Her own warm and she whispered to her doll until it was dark. Until her and the doll were quiet.
“You see. It worked. They got away. And now we’re free too. I love you.”
‘I love you too, Zoe. Doesn’t it feel good? I feel it too.’
“I love you.”
The orderlies found her, dead from the fall with the doll lying in her blood. She was buried with it in a pauper’s grave. No one could bring themselves to take it from her. That was after they realized the other two were gone. After the authorities were called in.
By then they were gone. Brothers, terrorists they were called for blowing up a building downtown. Political activities they claimed to be. Derek did the talking for them both because Jason hadn’t said a word since he’d found out his wife and daughter were in the building. The public wanted them dead, the same as they had wanted Zoe dead. All of them instead were committed. All of them were now free of the hospital.