Since I now spend my weekends either at the library or at the Laundry Mat with my boyfriend, I decided I would try and write a story while I wait for my clothes to finish their cycle. So, Here's my shot for the first one.

I locked myself behind these doors. It's not to keep them out, but to keep me in. When the look at me, they don't see. They don't see the real monster trapped inside. This body, it's so much more dangerous than it seems.

I looked at the reflection staring back at me. Her eyes are dark, haunting. I half smiled as I looked deep into those bottomless pits. These eyes are so dense. I could say they're like black holes; sucking in light, life, with no escape.

My hands shook as I washed the red off of them. I laughed nervously as the crimson liquid dripped down the drain.

"He deserved this," I whispered. "He almost killed you."

Does it make it right? Does my life mean more than his? How do I explain this? How do I make this right?

I can't.

My hands trembled underneath the warm water. I closed my eyes and saw the night flash behind them.

He stood over me with dominance. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Whisky. His drink to escape.

"Please stop," I begged. "I didn't mean to upset you." I crawled away, reaching around for anything to protect me.

"You're a bitch, you know that?" he yelled. "No one wanted you because you're such a bitch. I should have listened. I should have known you thought you were better than me."

They were drunk words spilling out of his lips. I couldn't hold them against him. I didn't think I was better than him. But who am I to change his mind.

"Please. Just go to bed before someone gets hurt." His hands formed into fists and I braced for impact. I felt the blow across my face, leaving my ear ringing. It sent my body to the floor. I tried to crawl away.

"Get back here," he growled. His hand grabbed my ankle, yanking me back. I reacted quickly. I reached for the knife under the table. I didn't mean to. I didn't want to. I just...

His eyes looked at mine, taunting me. "You think I'm scared of you?"

I whimpered. He lunged at me, grabbing my neck. As he came forward, my hand reached up. That's when I felt it. I felt the warm liquid drip over my body. I saw as his eyes grew only for a moment before fading away.

Now I look at the girl staring back at me. She was scared, terrified of what she had become. But in a moment, her lips stretched across her face. She was laughing. She was insane.

"I'm free," she cried. "Oh God, I'm free."