NaNoWriMo 2012: Beating Up Miranda

(No clue what this is? Maybe try reading this post first for some insight. Just remember – all of this writing is a VERY rough draft – editing is strictly forbidden during November. Please excuse the problem areas.)

Setting the Scene: Anthony is a medium, and can be possessed by spirits. Problem is, he’s losing control, and all sorts of nasty characters keep inhabiting his body without permission. For example, this rather angry being that decides Miranda needs a little roughing up…

“Anthony –“ I started, but before I could finish, he leaped at me, hitting me squarely in the chest, and tumbling me to the ground. I landed hard, falling directly on my back, arms getting squished awkwardly beneath me. The wind was knocked out of me, and I struggled to breathe, begging my chest to begin laboring once more to fill the void of my lungs. My mouth hung open, desperately trying to suck in air. His full weight was on top of me, mercilessly heavy, pushing me further, compressing my spine, pinching my ribs against my organs.
“You dumb bitch,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “You think you’re so special. Think you’re gonna lead a revolution. Well think again.” His weight shifted, and before I could process what was happening, a force slammed into the side of my head, snapping my neck and flinging my cheek to the ground. My face stung, and I could feel warmth tingling down along my jaw. My neck felt strange, as though it had popped out of place, but before I could try and readjust myself, the force came back down on my cheek once more, pushing me even further into the ground. My face pressed into the mud, and stars flashed around my eyes. I couldn’t tell what direction I was looking. Time seemed to stop and speed up, all at once. Pain. An eruption.
Something fiddled with my hair, and I realized it was fingers. Scratching my scalp, digging into me, trying to divulge from my skull the very brain that gave me thought. They lifted my head by pulling on my hair, and I thought that I might spin away into the universe, uninhibited and freed. But then, he slammed against me once more, fist connecting squarely with my undamaged cheekbone. The force snapped my neck once again, this time in the other direction, and for a moment the world became a void of darkness.
But that was only a flutter, a brief silence of consciousness, and soon I was back and aware of my suffering. My mind was so cloudy, but I knew I had to do something. Through the chaos, I had found my breath, and began panting loudly to restore my air supply. 
“Help!” It hurt to open my mouth, gashes on the sides of my face screaming in agony. I couldn’t feel my lower jaw as it extended. “Help!” Though I could not determine why, something told me this was a good idea. Sounds. Noises. Scream. “Help!”
Someone started cursing, but he sounded so far away. I could hear more sounds, a male voice speaking, maybe to me, but I couldn’t concentrate. My head was a whirlwind of vertigo and twinge, a concoction bred of torment. A touch, on my lips. Pressure, as they were squeezed, and then, a resounding smack, directly into my mouth. I tried to open my mouth to scream again, but the pain was too intense, so I merely vocalized a loud yell deep within my throat.
Pressure, moving. His weight, changing. Hands, on my stomach. Reaching up, under my shirt. Reaching down, under my pants. Probing. Then, a sharp sting, sharper, deeper than the gashes on my face. Across my ribs. Down my abdomen. Searing, burning. He was… slicing me…
No. No. I began to thrash, my senses slowly coming back into focus, my head clearing. The pain in my side was too real. I could not escape this. I would have to fight.
His weight was heavy, pure muscle, but I still struggled, kicking and punching, beating my arms against him. I could not see what was happening, I could only feel the flush of the air as my hands pounded through the air, the nip of the cold as my frosted feet swung around in distress. And all the while, my voice warbled in a tortured whine, shrieking as loud as I could through the pain to get the attention of anyone, anything…

Kristy Snyder

I'm a creative and quirky woman just looking to make her mark on the world. Writer, thinker, crafter, doer. Loves playing ice hockey and curling up with a good book. Traveling is a foremost passion and the road is always calling. Above all, I try to be an enjoyer of life.

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