#10 Desire For Her Magic

#10 Desire For Her Magic

A Chapter by tynamite
"

For a horror story contest.

"

Let me tell you about something that I don't understand. To this day I cannot figure it out.



Ever since I left my ex-girlfriend, I notice that she's gone more reclusive. She never spoke much to people anyway, and now she prefers to be by herself. Whenever I see her, and she's around people, she chooses to back off into the distance. I've tried going away, and people tell me that she does the same when I'm not around. I just don't understand it.


I tried speaking to her once to find out what she was thinking, and instead of talking, she was thinking of dragging me along to where she wanted. I didn't know where she was taking me. She was taking me somewhere secluded. Why would she take me somewhere secluded? I asked her to make sure she was safe. She told me I would be. I asked her what she meant by that. She told me that she wasn't safe. She's not safe. So why is she going there?


I eventually ended up in a place that was really secluded. It looked like a rustic town centre. The pavement was tiled with stones, and the roads had no cars parked on them. The sky was bright, and it looked like a beautiful place. There was not a piece of litter or gum on the ground. What nerved me the most was the fountain. It was a beautiful fountain, don't get me wrong. It had an angel in the middle of it on top of the uppermost bowl standing on a stick. What I found hard to take in was that the busiest thing in the place was the fountain. Even the crows spent most their time loitering on objects, and not flying around.


Still holding my hand, she took me to a building that had five floors. The building was derelict. I was wondering why she would take me there. Strangely there was a lift. She took me up the lift, and I asked her what a lift was doing in a place like this. She told me that lifts don't decompose. I asked her if the lift was safe. She told me that she went up this lift plenty of times. I looked at her looking unsure, then tried to look at the lift. She looked confident of the time ahead. I stood near the lift wall and held both hands onto the bars that lay behind me.


When we got out the lift, the floor was lonely. I really wanted to know why she would leave somewhere lonely to go somewhere lonely. I immediately stopped her from walking any further, put her back on the wall, and asked her if there is anything to know about. She shook her head. I asked her again more intensely. She said no and looked like she had something to prove. Are you sure, I asked. She told me she wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I then followed her to her path, as that was the most satisfactory answer I would get.


In the building, there were posters on the wall, and they were peeling off the wall. There were lights, and nearly all of them didn't work. The place was dark, and the only light source was my ex's torch that she held. It was hard to make out the colours that were on the walls. Notice boards were confusing. With my good eyes sometimes I would only pick up certain colours. Looking at a poster, I could only see it being orange, and a paper tilting forward like it's not placed on the wall properly. The place wasn't exactly messy, but there were things scattered across the place. I kicked my foot into a packet of sealed Worther's Original once. She picked it up and offered me one, and I ate it. She said it was hers. I didn't feel I was being watched, but I did feel that she wasn't the only one who could possibly know about this place. Anything could be going on here.


It didn't take long until we got to an area of the corridor which had thick pieces of  of glass on it. She took her sandals. I asked her what she was doing. She replied that they like it when she does that. While she was occupied walking on the glass, I moved to the edge of the corridor walking around the glass. She held my hand again. I was now scared. "Where are you going", I asked. "I don't know", she replied with a solemn voice. I knew that she'd been here before. She walked into an empty room which lots of illustrated story books in them. She got in, took a seat, and read them aloud to me. I was confused. I then got up and walked out the room.


"Come back."

"No."

"Come back."

"Why."

"Just come back."

"Why should I? You said that there's nothing important that I should know about. So on that basis, goodbye. Have fun!"

"I'm telling you please."

I froze. "How did we get to please?"

"Can you just-"

"No. I can't be doing that. This place is weird. I'm going." I backed off.

"Please"

I backed off.

"Please"

I backed off. "

Please"

I backed off. I started smiling at her. 

"It's not funny!" She got scared.

I backed off even more. I got near the stairs which would take me downstairs. "Please!" she screamed. "I'm asking you!"

Asking? It was more like begging. Where did that come from?


So that's when I walked closer to her, and got in the room. This room looked nice. The painted walls weren't looking too drab. There was some sort of cleanliness to this room, even if it was clean. The lights worked too, as she switched them on within three seconds of entering. I took that as her knowing this room is safe. The carpet on the floor was clean too.  This room had tables, chairs, and books in it. There were also other things in this room. This room didn't look like it had a purpose. It was just a room with small items in it, apart from tables, a desk and cabinet. 


This time round she was standing really close to me. It was obviously because she wanted to get back with me, but didn't know what to say. We sat down at the desk and she started reading an illustrated children's book aloud to me. She inched her seat closer to mine. After reading that book, she shut the door. When she got back in her seat, I asked her why she shut the door then she hugged me then tried to kiss me. I went along with it so the whole charade would hurry up and get to the point. She wanted me for herself, and the saddest part was that she couldn't have that. In fact she doesn't have anyone but me to run to. Of course I'm her friend, but she would mean so much more to me if I made her my girlfriend.


Finally, after being in that room, she didn't hesitate to hold my hand again after we left.

"Don't let go of my hand and leave me. That's how they'll get me" she said. She spoke quietly as she always did. This time she sounded assertive. I looked at her and she looked drained now. She hid a forthcoming smile. I smiled at her. As we walked down the corridor, not much seemed different, except that there was more mess cluttered around.

"Do people live here?" I asked.

"No. That's why I like it here." We walked some more along the cluttered corridor to go outside into the bushes. She got me to crouch down with her under the bushes. Some of the bushes were pointy, and some had leaves that had ridges. 

"I'll need you to hurt me."

"What?"

"I'll need you to kick me until I can't get up."

"Why would you want me to do that?"

"Because I want them to leave me alone. I need you to make me cry."

"Seriously, what is going on?"

"Nothing yet."

"They like it when I'm happy, and they like it when I'm sad."

At this point I got up and kicked her hard to the ground. "Bang! There ya go."


I heard something drop - loud.


We ran. She held my hand running. I didn't know she could run so fast. She told me not to turn around. I could hear someone getting nearer. She dropped herself onto the ground and took me with her.

"I'm not single!" she shouted.

She told me she could see them going away. I was too busy dazed and looking at the sky. She expected me not to get up.


This s**t is weird.


This is the point that we left. We walked still holding hands, back to the place where she picked me up at. I knew that she was taking me back her. She didn't talk. While walking back there, she stopped and looked at me for a second. She wanted me to do something. I tried to think of why she brought me there. Three minutes later, even I started to find the silence crushing. I couldn't be silent after an ordeal like that. So that's when I started to ask her about her.


"So what did you do today, apart from this?"

"Nothing" she said smiling, without a care in the world.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing" she smiled again.

"Did you have breakfast today?" I asked.

"Yes I had breakfast. I made it myself." Normally she would always ask me to make it for her.

"Are there any good shops where you live?"

"Yes. You know, the Cyca Centre with the revolving doors, grass gardens and glass doors.

"You're still living in the same place?"

"Yes. You should visit some time."

I froze. "You need to go somewhere else if you want to make friends."

Now she looked sad. Something was on her mind, and I had no idea what it is. All I know is that from now on she was subdued.


We got back to where she met me, and we went our separate ways. Actually, I continued talking to the people who were standing around on the street, whilst she walked off a bit and cowered into the distance by herself. Why does she do that?


That's the thing I tried to figure out. I followed her one day to try to find out where she goes when no one is looking, the times she goes to that weird secluded building. When I followed her and sneaked in, I thought she was deranged. She was huddled up like it was shivering, and she tread carefully as if there were land-mines all over the place. She looked gloomier than the surroundings, and that's saying something. Here is what she said all scared and timid to herself quietly.

"They're going to steal my magic. They want to steal my magic. Because they like me too much, because I'm special. They think they love me, but this isn't love. I wish they could accept me, the person that I am. Instead they scorn me, and want me to change. I can't help being me, I can't help being better than them. I wish I could hopskotch and be pushed on a swing. As long as I'm desirable, I don't mean anything. They think that they love me, because they like how I am. But they truly don't love me, because they don't understand me. I see them looking at me, wishing they were me. But they don't see, the emotions they crush. They're going to get me. They're going to get me. They want to steal my magic."

If I didn't know any better, I would have said that she was mentally ill. She looked like I'd never seen her before, and she was emotionally involved in the plight that she was talking about. Watching her walk, it was like every step she took required her to drink nasty tasting medicine.


She didn't do much else but parade the gloomy corridors, walking around like easy prey. I walked out a nearby room of which I could see her through the windows, and then I told her to go home. I walked her the way there, and told her not to go there again.


"Promise me that you won't go to that scary secluded place again."

"I can't."

"You could die there."

We looked at each other.

She hugged me and cried.

I thought to myself, "This is fucked!"



© 2011 tynamite


Author's Note

tynamite
Writing horror is challengingly hard, because I'm not writing to entertain, I'm writing to make you feel uncomfortable. Course I ain't writing about vampires, demons and death; coz that's not my style. I strive for realism.

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Reviews

This was frightening! I think her behavior was more frightening than anything.
She coaxed you with her kissing, but other than that your journey was filled with mystery and confusion. Not to mention darkness too. I almost would like to know more about who was chasing you. Who were those people and what was the building about? How did your ex-girl come to join them there?
Very interesting chapter! I enjoyed this chapter. You could almost add another chapter answering these questions.

Posted 12 Years Ago


tynamite

6 Years Ago

Yes but how do I write a novel about a haunted derelict building. Eventually they both would have to.. read more

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Added on January 30, 2011
Last Updated on August 26, 2011
Tags: horror, fear, desire


Author

tynamite
tynamite

Birmingham, England, United Kingdom



About
Hello peepz! I write novels and short stories in the "urban life" genre going for the "thought provoking" style. You could call it realism, but even romance and crime novels can be realistic, so I.. more..

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