Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Blood* ❯ She's Hearing Voices ( Chapter 18 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

*Karen*


I always wanted to die. I’ve suffered enough. I constantly have monsters in my head. I don’t know what happened to me. I must have had a happy childhood. But somewhere, it came undone.


My mom left when I was two. So, I was left with my father. That in itself made things worse. My father was a sick and cruel man. He didn’t see me as a daughter. I was more of his girlfriend. *Shutter*


It all started when I was four. I didn’t know what sex was then. I was still innocent then. I didn’t know about sex, divorce, or why momma just left. I was just a child. But, he changed all of that.
I can’t forget that day if I tried. It has scarred me. He scarred me. It was storming that afternoon. I was playing with my dolls at the time. Then, my father burst into my room. That was the first time I saw him drunk. It scared me to death. I didn’t know what to do.


“Papa?” I asked. “Papa, what’s wrong?” He slurred out his answer. It didn’t sound human. My father seemed to be possessed by the devil. Everything about him turned animal-like. Next, he lunged at me. I began to run away. He chased me down. I managed to reach the living room before he caught me. I tried to escape, but he dragged me back to the family room. He pushed me back onto the futon.


*Shutter* I try to block out that night from my head. I still have nightmares about it. That night began years of sexual abuse for me. I begged my father to stop. He would laugh at me and keep on. I was helpless against him. There wasn’t anything I could do. So, I quietly took it growing up.


At age eighteen, I finally ran away from home. I may have escaped from my father. But, I couldn’t escape my past. My life right now is in ruins. I work as a call girl in Tokyo’s Red Light District and I’m not proud of it. I hate myself even more afterwards every night. These men make me feel ugly and dirty afterwards. Over time, I became burned out and wanted to die. I would get my wish soon.


Three nights ago, I was with a client when I heard her voice. She told me I would die next year during the Fire Festival. Most people would freak out over this, but not me. I felt relieved. My wish was finally coming true. Of course, I thought it was a dream.


But by morning, it wasn’t. And when I saw that damned fourteen burned into my shoulder, a grim feeling came over my stomach. I’m not sure I want to die anymore.
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