Victim

Thriller Stories | Oct 26, 2012 | 6 min read
56 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
Indescribable…the way it feels. Shocking…the way it finds you unexpectedly. Frightening…the simple thought of experiencing it. Saddening…the way it leaves you; alone, helpless and on the brink of death. No one knows the fear of this experience until it comes to you, unwanted but wanting, underestimated but dangerous. It only comes to a few people, and unfortunately, it was my turn…

I walked home from school, relieved that the long day was finally over. With a tonne of assignments in my bag and a test waiting to be crammed for the next day, it was surprising why I was still standing. I didn't complain though, since it would never solve anything, rather I laughed it off as a bad joke that every teacher tells in class to make themselves seem cooler than they actually are. Besides, it was better than doing practically nothing the whole day. Damned summer vacations, I'll never get the end of them. Most people would have jobs to buy that new car, or just for the feel of temporary independence once they get the first paycheck. But no, people like me had to work at home all day, with the only pay being the gift of sleeping in your own bed, eating a home cooked meal and spending quality time alone with your thoughts. A sad way to live, but a way of life nonetheless.
Fortunately, I got to indulge myself in novel after novel, having being the proud reader of over two hundred novels of all kinds, including the soft porn ones sold under the term ‘romantic love stories'. No matter who wrote it or when, I would be more than glad to take it off your hands and give it a good read. In fact, that was the main reason I wanted to get this homework off my back, literally, and finish this one I had been engrossed in for weeks. I wasn't able to finish it in a few days, as was the usual, and it got to me that I couldn't do it. So I stopped, reached into my bag and pulled out ‘The Other Side', by an unknown author. It was basically showing the literal other side of things, like the murderer's perspective, the real feeling of pain, stuff like that.
The book was able to get me past the long walk home, past the annoying neighbors, past the unwanted chit-chat and past the boring paths I passed to get there. I had used it many times, so it wasn't hard to avoid obstacles here and there.
There was one line in particular that really interested me, and seemed to be the recurring theme of the novel. It went:"Horrible horrible, it sunk into me. Not anything close to worthy. I never wanted this, but now I know how it feels to be on the other side." I found myself chanting those words as I walked in the protagonist's shoes, felt their every emotion, cried their every tear and laughed as they did. The feeling was indescribable, being one with the book, as if nothing else existed around you.
Then it occurred to me. I was alone. I looked around, but saw no one in the neighborhood. Once I checked the time, it was clear why. At a few minutes to seven, this place was almost deserted. I started rushing home, novel firmly in hand. I ran faster and faster, but the weight of my bag slowed me down considerably. I never liked being alone, anywhere. My heart rate increased, my breathing was off the charts, my forehead was soaking in sweat and my feet were beginning to get numb. Almost there, just a few more yards.
I stopped abruptly when I saw my neighbor working on her garden with a flashlight. Relieved that I was no longer alone, I slowed down and even decided to walk over to her for a quick chat. I called out her name, but no response came. She just continued working, at a constant rate with a repetitive pattern, singing something to herself. I wanted to leave, but the words of her song caught my attention, particularly one line: "Horrible horrible, it sunk into me. Not anything close to worthy. I never wanted this, but now I know how it feels to be on the other side."
Feeling a bit scared, I turned to walk away, not wanting to look back, however strong the temptation was. Her gardening tools continued with the same sound at the same rate, fading away until I couldn't hear them. Just to confirm they had, I turned back, and saw her standing perfectly still, staring at me in the impending darkness. Paralyzing fear ran through my body as I stood, stiff as a board, waiting for something to happen. I could feel my heart beating, wanting to jump out of its ribcage. My eyes went dry, struggling to see whatever remained of the day, more specifically her.
Nothing happened. She slowly waved at me and went back to her house, as I ran as fast as possible to mine, storming in and shutting the door in the process. As I calmed down, I realized something, something I didn't want to dwell on, but couldn't help it: didn't I just read of something similar?
And why was it so quiet? Normally there would be noise everywhere. I walked around the house, first slowly, then frantically, then in a scared manner at the realization that I was left alone. My first instinct was to lock myself in my room until someone showed up, and so I did. Feeling safer, I went back to the novel to confirm my suspicions about earlier. Flipping through page after page, I felt I was getting closer until, off went the lights.
A slight scream escaped my throat as I walked around the room blindly and confused, not knowing what to do. Panic gripped my very being as I squirmed in a corner, holding myself tightly, breathing heavily and trembling vigorously. Thoughts of what might happen to me flooded my mind, not one stopping to reassure me of my future safety. I couldn't see, fright wouldn't let me move. I only hoped for a miracle to happen, and the sooner the better for me.
The electricity came back, and with it came relief and happiness. I stood up and unlocked the door, confident that my relatives had returned, and started down the stairs. However, my joy soon turned to fright when it occurred to me that no one was here. I wanted to run back up, but the lights went off again.
The scream was louder, the fear was magnified and I almost choked on my own breath. This cannot be happening. This CANNOT be happening. I didn't know what to do, where to go, whether to scream or not. I tried to slow my erratic pulse down by breathing slower, and slower, until I could walk over to the kitchen to get a flashlight. Fumbling through cabinet after cabinet, I finally found one. It shone brilliantly, its white beam giving a sense of hope. I noticed my novel strategically placed on the counter, open at a specific page. Reluctantly as possible, I went to see what it was about. I directed the bright light onto the book, and noticed that the recurring note was underlined, but this time, it read: "Horrible horrible, it sunk into you. Not anything close to worthy. You never wanted this, but now you'll know how it feels to be on the other side."
Before I could react, I felt two sharp points piercing my neck and sinking into it. I felt my blood rush to my neck, numbness trickling upwards from my feet. My heart was on the brink of stopping, every dying beat slowing down by the second. My lungs weakened as they released every ounce of air in me. I couldn't feel any fear nor trembling. I couldn't speak, my mind felt like it was melting. Its last thoughts reminded me of a similar scenario in the novel, however weakly. My hands stiffened, my heart gave in, and only then did it dawn on me that I was reading about my own demise…
Indescribable…the way it feels. Shocking…the way it finds you unexpectedly. Frightening…the simple thought of experiencing it. Saddening…the way it leaves you; alone, helpless and on the brink of death. No one knows the fear of this experience until it comes to you, unwanted but wanting, underestimated but dangerous. This is the dying moment of a victim….

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Reviews

Jamila Oct 30, 2012

favorite of all time.

Amit Oct 29, 2012

Good Job. Fantastic.

Sandy Haines Oct 27, 2012

freaky. I liked it.

Velma golden Oct 27, 2012

A page turner,great story,great writing, keep us on the end of our seats.Liked it,different,concept.

Meenu Oct 26, 2012

A nicely written story.

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