Bloody Mary

Hey guys, thanks again for all the wonderful comments!  Violet is a mystery! Stay tuned to find out! 

Here's the book cover a friend of mine made for this story 



Idk if it's too big or what? hopefully this'll work...

 

Chapter Eight

— Mary's POV —


I groaned as my eyes opened to the brightest light. But somehow I felt comfortable; I snapped my eyes close, and opened it again.


I was in a room, in a really comfortable bed, and there was a very manly scent.


I gasped in realisation. I peeked under the duvet, and thank the gods nothing happened.


But what exactly happened? I asked myself.


Before I could stand up and look for someone, Michael entered the room. He looked flustered after we locked our eyes.


I tightened my grip on the sheets and glared at him, "Where am I?"


"Y-you're in my room. Uhm, you passed out in the hallway yesterday."


"Yesterday?!"


"Yeah, you've been asleep for more than 24 hours; I was getting worried, so I called the doctor, but she said that you're just in a deep sleep," he said sheepishly.


He called the doctor? Oh no...


I gulped and relaxed myself, "Did you see anything?"


"Am I supposed to?" He asked curiously, and I just shook my head.


"Uh, Mary— Who's Violet?"


I raised my brows, "Violet? I haven't heard of that name, why?"


His eyes widened and he looked like he was thinking deeply for a moment. He didn't speak, he just sat down on the chair he had for his study table.


"Do you remember anything that happened yesterday?"

I cleared my throat and he looked at me. "Err, no. I was just at school— that was it. Anyway, thanks, Michael... And Uh, I think I should go."


He sighed and gave me a weak smile, "Why can't you stay?"


Huh?! "Uhm, I need to get home... I'm really sorry— err, bye." I got off the bed quickly and spotted my bag near the doorway. So I looked at him once more and stormed out of the house.


Turned out that he just lived three houses away from me.


☆


Weeks passed, and I felt like I should just die.


Why?


Well, a certain someone kept following me and insisting for me to become his friend, which is really damn annoying— especially when people already starts noticing me.


I turned around on my heels and glared threateningly at him, "Seriously, Michael! Stop following me— it's creeping me out!" I whispered loudly at him.


We were in the middle of the hallway, so I didn't want any troubles.


"C'mon Mary— just give it a shot?" He pleaded with puppy dog eyes.


"No, for the last time Michael. Get it through your thick skull!" I said in rage.


As I turned around, beginning to walk away, Michael's hand caught mine, and tingled went through up my body.


I pulled away from him, my cheeks beet red for some stupid reason.


I turned around and glared at him. "Please, stop."


He smiled at me, grabbed me again, and pulled me away towards an empty classroom.


He locked the door and fear crept onto my skin. I backed away from him and tears started streaming down my face.


I felt my head numbing, my heart beating fast, and a certain memory hitting me in the speed of light.


"Stop it! Stop! Stop hurting her! Please... no..." I begged, starting to give up. I was watching my sister being abused sexually, and physically.


And it was all my fault.


"Take this, bitch!" The man said, hitting my sister's bottom many times.


I wanted to cover my eyes, to shut my senses, but I was tied up... and somehow I couldn't close my eyes. It was weird, hurtful even.


"Stop!" I screamed hatefully, but no one ever listened.


And then my heart stopped in a halt.


He brought out a knife... No, not just any knife. But the knife that was used to kill my parents.


There were already three of them, and the fourth was holding me down, laughing amusingly.


My sister looked at me in the eye, and every fibre of my being felt dead. 'I'm so sorry.' I mouthed at her. But she just smiled and replied, 'Don't be.'


And then she was stabbed on the body, and they slashed her face multiple times. I felt like puking, I felt so many things I couldn't even describe them.


I sobbed hard, and when I screamed out my frustration, the three of them turned to me and smirked.


"She's dead," the first man with a dirty blonde hair sang. He was buff, handsome even, but he was a disgusting bastard as well as the four of them who kidnapped my sister and I.


They looked good, they were buff, but their hair colour was the only difference; and the best similarity is that they are disgusting low-life bastards who sexually and physically abuses women, and kill them.


"No! You murderers!" I screamed trying to get off the grip of the raven-haired man holding me.


"I like the sound of that," Black haired man said. "It's a very complimenting title." He chuckled evilly, and the creeps took over my body.


I thrashed around, trying to get them off me. They were touching me everywhere, and I felt like dying at that moment.


"Please... stop... please, kill me." I begged.


But they just laughed, and then someone thrusted inside me, causing me to cry out in pain.


"Stop it you dirty bastards!" I yelled out, kicking the blue-haired man out of my bottom.


"Stop squirming baby, we know you like it." He breathed down my neck, causing me to shiver in disgust.


The thirty minutes felt like hours to me. I felt dirty, used, and disgusting.


Dirty man whores took the last thing I saved for my first love. They turned me to a disgusting, impure girl— with no more reason to live.


After they were done abusing me, they didn't kill me. I begged them, but they didn't.


Instead, they drove off to the place they took us, and dropped me off the street. I didn't say anything— I didn't move, even.


My clothes were torn and dirty... just like myself. Torn and dirty.


"Mary?" The familiar voice was filled in concern and pain. My dull eyes met his hurt brown eyes. He ran towards me and I just stood there, staring at him like some kind of creep.


"Andrew..." I whispered.


He didn't respond, instead he enveloped me in his strong arms that gave me so much comfort; but being in it made me feel undeserving.


I was dirty.


And I didn't deserve him.


I broke down and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry, Andrew... I'm so sorry. I won't be surprised if you're gonna break up with me, I promise I won't be. I'm dirty, and I understand. I'm so sorry."


"Who did this to you?" He asked, clearly hurt to the core, and clearly crying for me. I didn't want him to cry for me, I never do.


I didn't answer him. I just stood there, hugging him. Until he picked me up bridal style and carried me to my house.


He took me in the shower, and took off my clothes. I didn't care anymore, I was used, and I knew Andrew hated me already.


He made me sit down on the tub when it was already full. He kissed my forehead and wiped away the tears streaming down my face.


"I will never ever leave you, Mary. I love you more than you know. Remembered when I told you, 'Mahal kita, at kahit ano'ng mangyari ikaw pa rin ang mamahalin ko, at hinding Hindi kita iiwanan. Pangako.'?" He asked. I thought about it and smiled weakly at him. I love it when he spoke in his native tongue. He said, 'I love you, and whatever happens, you will still be the one that I will love, and I will never ever leave you. Promise.'


I nodded at him. I still didn't find the strength to speak.


So he began scrubbing my body, and washing away the dirty that was stuck on my skin. But no matter how much he scrubbed, it still lingered; and it was repugnant.


I begged him to do it harder, to take the filth away, but he stopped and weeped.


"Stop, Mary... don't make me do this anymore. It hurts me to see you like this. You're still beautiful in my eyes. You're still the pure Mary I know, okay? Don't ever think otherwise."


"No," I protested. "Scrub me harder and take it off, or I will!" I cried out desperately; and I tries to steal the scrub away from him, but instead, he hugged me tightly... never letting me go.


"Stop, stop... please." He pleaded, and then kisses me ever so gently on my temple.


"I'm so sorry," I whispered hoarsely, giving up the fight.


But he shook his head and got me out of the bath, wrapping the white towel on my frail body.


"I love you," he whispered to me with so much emotion.


"I love you more."


I felt warmth radiating on my body. I was already so still, and then I looked up and saw Michael hugging me tightly, and comfortingly.


For once, I didn't argue at him, or shove him. I liked it.


Yeah, I just said that.


I liked being in Michael's arms, and that scared me...


More than when I knew that my life is forever a curse.

 

Yes she does..  But that doesn't mean she's gonna let him in right away 