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The Suicide - NAP



       The dark, cold river reminded me of a deep black abyss, flowing rough and fast as I stood watching it from the wooden bridge. I have stood here many times before but never have I felt the dread I feel tonight. My heart thumping hard enough I could hear it, but it was not the only thing I could hear. The voice whispering, “You must do it.” the voice laughed. My hands shook as I puffed on my cigarette, my hair brushing my face in the gentle wind. It is a warm night but still a shiver ran down my spine, I look down, deep into the water. A dancing silhouette under the dingy water called to me. “Join me.” It sung, its voice welcoming and warm. The empty bottle of pills on the floor beside me was blurring a little. The starry sky above lit the landscape I was looking onto. Sadness filling my stomach along with a severe burning sensation I assumed was the tablets I had just swallowed. I closed my eyes leaning over the metal railings of the bridge. My Mother's face lit up my blank mind, she smiled, her arms wide open waiting for me to hug her. But I did not move. My stepfather appears by her side, his smirking lips tormenting me. After years of abuse, my mother had never noticed, never believed me. “She knows the truth, she loves me more.” His voice rang in my ears, echoing. I leant forward taking the leap which I had planned for days, I feel free as I fall 50ft in the air, crashing into the freezing water below me, it felt like icicles, millions at once, stabbing into my body. But I didn’t mind after all the voice had told me to do it. The voice which calms me, loves me and wants me to be with him, my boyfriend.



      His car crash had ripped my heart out, I spent months trying to contact him from beyond the grave, and I have succeeded. He wants me to be with him, to live forever in the other world. He told me how beautiful it is, how the sun never sets, the people always smiling. I forced my eyes open searching for my love. His dark hair flowing into view, his pale hands reaching for my face. He grabbed my hair pulling me lower, further and further into the abyss. His hands not gentle as I had to remember them, but filled with force. My lungs are giving up, I gasp for breath, panic flooding my body, I shake and twist my body to swim back up, only to be dragged deeper under. I gasp again, this time I could feel the freezing water splintering my lungs. Laughter filling my ears as the burst, blood turning the water pink. A pressure on my legs building up at incredible speed, ripping and tearing. I let out a scream but hear nothing. Another ripping sensation crashed through my body, my body immobilised. I watch as my legs pass my face, detached from my body, bits of fat and skin spreading across the river bed. The water now bright red, the moon not visible from down here, but instead, thousands of glowing spectators watching with anticipation, their laughter and cheering not heard but shown on their faces. The spectators were my family and all my friends. A sharp pin prick to my lips, a threading motion of the hands of whom I thought was my love. My lips searing in pain, but my body takes it all, each sensation ripping through me. I fight to open my mouth, only to not be able to. My skin burns, ripping from my muscles, if possible even more blood sprayed into the water.


      My mind now blank, I can hear only my own thoughts, I can feel only pain.



***

     No longer am I alive, the sun never sets because the sun will never rise. The constant blackness which swallows me up, tortures and torments me. The people always smile, their lips are sown that way. Not that you can call them people, they have no legs, not one of them, nor skin or hair. Their black eyes which stare into my own, bringing all my worst memories back. I spend a lot of time reliving the beatings of my step father, the death of my boyfriend, and my death. Each happen in a different way so the torture never ends. Never can I get used to this. I watch my mother from time to time, when I say watch I’m forced to possess her, I’m forced to slice her arms and legs, but killing her husband was my doing. I sliced his head off clean with a blade. I enjoyed watching the life fade from his eyes.


     I exist only as an entity, attacking the innocent and weak, the river which I once watched before I left the world, now filled with rotting bodies of my unknown victims. Known only because the called out to me. Their souls trapped like mine, wondering around the hell which I now call home. Each one, hand sown lips, no longer human. The shadows which are cast in the dark river are my family, my private army. Their families mourn for a while, but we are forgotten.


     They’ve told me that one day, I will be like them. Not caring about killing. But they don’t know that already, I have lured so many to that bridge, dragging them to their untimely death. My story is told, but rarely, because all those who hear it die. I wrote this myself, to lure more into my world. I wonder who’s next, how I’ll do it and when. I’ll let you know sometime.

     Forever in love, forever in death. My story, my note to you. The pain of the tears that fall from the clouds are not from the clouds at all but from the eyes of many that felt this pain before. The many are crying from the eyes, tears rolling down their cheek as each one falls upon Earth and soak up the next victim. 

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Who in the world am I?

Who am I?
It's a simple question, with an infinite amount of answers. So lets start with the basics;

I'm Nicole A Preedy, I write, I read, I kick ass.

I write a whole load of crazy crap, but I do have my fair share of stories to tell, as a fiction writer my ideas are always coming, and never leaving. As well, of course, the inspirational quote!
I write Thrillers, Romance and Horror. Though I can be quite funny!

Why do you care? Simple answer is YOU DON'T. 

Complex answer? You are bored, you want to read something, something that will make you laugh, cry, bite your lip in anticipation or think deep into the logic of a made up murderer.

So, you're asking, what the hell is next.

EXACTLY, Hell is next, a few stories, HORROR, stories, based on Ghosts, Demons, Monsters and even the Devil himself well, I like to call him Lucifer since were on a first name basis! As well as the lovable and heart wrenching love stories!






Keep your eyes open for the first STORY to be feasted up…