• She clutched her side in anguish as pain cut through her, tearing up everything in its path. Her breaths were ragged and short, like she was trying to breath, but something stifled her attempt. The girl whimpered as tears, burning and salty, cascaded down her face, leave a thin wet trail of despair, hurt, and black anger. Her heart faltered. It was ever so slight, so infinitesimally small, yet it hurt her, so much. She shrieked. It echoed off every brick wall, bouncing everywhere for it had no control of it momentum. Her eardrums rattled, when the echo hit it, hard. She nearly fainted from the pain. What had she done to deserve all this pain, this suffering? How long must it continue? Until it possesses her, taking her for its own? No, she won’t let it. If she must suffer with the burden she had been given, so be it. She will never let it be taken from her. She will never give in.
    Another scream, another moan, another groan escaped her lips effortlessly. She fell to the ground, writhing in pain, discomfort. Help, she screeched in vain, for nobody would hear her, except her own self. But she had to try, she just had to. Then IT came. IT asked if she were ready to answer, to give it over. She spat in its face. IT took it as a no. Alright then, IT said. Then you can suffer until you die, unless you want to tell me what I want know. She tried to kick IT. IT laughed, a cold, black hearted laugh. IT left. She cried out, wanting to die, wanting the pain to cease. The pain stopped. Surprised, she stood up. With joy as pure as gold, she ran to the door, not caring about anything else but escape. She flew through the door, down the steps, and into the open sunlight. Bliss. That was it. Bliss was what she felt, after being locked in that room for day in and day out. She spun around to see a last glimpse of the chamber that kept her from the light. She spied IT at the window. She smiled a triumphant smile at IT. No matter, IT thought. And with a wave of IT’s hand, a crushing feeling fell upon her, and she crumbled to the ground.

    Five Days Later

    No, the girl groaned in defeat. She knelt down by a half oval stone, her height when she was crouched down. How could this have happened? NO! The girl shrieked in dismay, in absolute terror. All those around her did not speak but looked grimly at what lay before her in a wooden box. A coffin. The girl sobbed and sobbed. What will happen now? She must face the truth. She stood up, sniffling. Slowly, she walked to the case. She peered inside and let out another whimper of despair. It was herself. Her dead self. The ghost of her triumphant smile still lay upon her ever frozen face. On the tombstone, it said “IT told you so. I told you so.” The girl looked down at the foot the grave marker. There was a bottle. The one she had stolen from IT. She wanted it. For immortality. But now it was too late. She grasped the bottle, anger flaring in her dead heart. She would destroy what had destroyed her. She held the green, silver lined bottle high above her head. Then, with the anger of her imprisonment, the despair of her death, and the revenge she was about to perform, she threw it to the ground, smashing it into a thousand pieces.
    NOOOOOO! Screamed a voice that would belong to only one creature: IT. May you rot in Hell!!! The girl shrieked and started to grind the glass pieces into dust. She was unaware that thick black smoke was billowing out and into the open. The traitorous wind blew it over to the now dead carcass. It seeped into the body, until it was now not visible anymore. The corpse’s eyes closed, then reopened, to reveal a pair of black eyes, the eyes of evil, the eyes of IT.
    Big mistake, the corpse spoke quietly. The cadaver stood up and the ghost saw and realized her consequences of her terrible decision.
    You stole my bottle, now it is broken. You escaped torture, yet you did not escape death.
    You may have killed my body, but you can never kill my soul! IT yelled in reverence and swiped at the ghost and with the dark magic IT possesses, grabbed the girl around the throat. Though she was dead, she felt pain. She clawed at IT’s hands, but IT did not let go.
    IT began to squeeze. Because you destroyed the bottle that kept my soul captive, you will feel pain…FOREVER! IT screeched. The girl yelled. Then she was quiet. Dead, again.
    The girl will forever more repeat those days of torture, and forever feel the pain only the girl would know. Suffer.