Short Stories

I just wanted to try to write some short stories. Tell me what you think (:


1. Freed

I looked at her in the mirror. Sad eyes with a fake smile; just to put on an act.  She brushed some dirt off of her freshly washed dress. It was a simple dress, but very expensive. It had a low cut back. The dress was sleeveless, showing off her long, fragile arms. It went down till her mid-thigh, which he loved to see.

Her soft yet hard brown eyes looked herself over. “This isn’t me.” She whispered to herself. She hadn’t been herself in the last twelve years. She was surprised she still knew who she was.

When she heard the creaking of the hardwood floor, she knew he had returned home. Her breathing hitched even though she had been waiting for this moment for so long.

“Can I really do this?” She silently asked herself.  “Am I ready for the consequences?” She thought again.

She nodded her heard slightly, reassuring herself that she was indeed ready to do it.

“ERICA!” His voice boomed from downstairs.

She stayed silent for a moment, too frightened by his tone of voice. “ERICA! BLOODY HELL, WHERE ARE YOU?!” She heard his voice again.

“I-I am upstairs.” She called back. Her voice shook, which she regretted. It was like he could feel her fear. She had to put on an act, for the last time. Maybe she’ll be free to be who she is… after this is done.

She walked away from the mirror and out of the bathroom so go to him downstairs. As she walked downstairs she could feel her legs shaking. She took a few deep breaths before descending downstairs completely.

As soon as she walked down the stairs, he threw himself on her. He was too heavy to push off.

“You’ve been a good girl these past three days, so I’ll spare you today.” He whispered into my ear while grabbing my thigh.

This was better than what he usually does, she thought to herself. She could smell the whiskey on his breath. When he’s drunk, his personality changes the slightest bit. When he’s drunk or wasted he acts like a teenage; nice, in his own way.

“Come; let me give you some food. I made your favourite today.” She tried her hardest to smile at him.

“And what would that be, my darling?” He asked still close to her body. He touched her lips with his hard fingers and she tried not to flinch.

“I made lasagne for you. Just the way you like it.” She said cautiously, she didn’t want to upset him.

“Lead the way.” He gave her a little wink.

She turned around and walked into the kitchen, but now before he slapped her butt. Every day when he was slap her butt, it would get harder and harder. So now it hurt and she knew there would probably be a bruise there… again.

I pretend to open the fridge to I can take out my gun that was hidden inside my bra.

“Hurry –“

Before he could finish his sentence she slammed the door and pointed her small hand gun to his chest.


The gun shot rippled through the air and sank right into his heart. He fell to the floor as the bullet sank into his non-existent heart.

She felt a little giddy inside. Like a child again. But she no longer was, because he stole that from her.

She got taken away twelve years ago. She was only sixteen. A couple months before her sweet sixteen.

His name was Jack. He stole her away from her family and friends. He kept her as his prisoner for years. She was never a weak and fragile girl and he made her become. She had always fought for herself.

When he took her she was helpless. He had pointed a gun to her head and said that if she didn’t come with him she was as good as dead.

Through the years she was tormented and abused. She still had the bruises to prove it.

“I told you I would take revenge.” She said to him as he took his last breath.

Her torture was over. She was finally free from his tight grasp over her life.

She called the police and fled the house. She could go wherever and be whoever she wanted.

She was finally free.

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