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Being Her

A series of one-shots in Claire's perspective throughout the series For Her.

Um, will not go in any order. they come as i get bored enough to write them. PSSSTTT if you want a new story, go review with her!

3. Other Pains

Rating 5/5   Word Count 549   Review this Chapter

Darkness. Now I no longer knew where it began and ended.

Darkness and nothing and fear.


I was afraid. Of everything. Of my own shadow, literally. I feared every person, every idea, every word and name and action. The smallest twitches looked like blows. The kindest face looked like him.

Nothing but the nothingness and the darkness and the fear.

There were days when the pain was so terrible I could barely move, and yet I had to get up and act normal, because if I didn’t…

No, I didn’t really know what he’d do. But I was so afraid. I knew it would be bad. Sometimes fearing it was worse than it actually was… but it was always plenty bad enough.

I walked in the house as quietly as I could. I hoped not to wake him…

I never can get what I want.

“Claire!” he screamed. I flinched. I hated that noise… my own name terrified me.

“Claire, get over here!”

I went. My footsteps were nothingness, a quiet patter of tears on the carpet. They were loud enough, just loud enough, that he didn’t forget his command by the time I reached him. I had failed, and I would pay the price.

The punishment was not one I expected. Pain came in a different way this time. Stranger than ever before, without the physical hurt, but such fear and loathing…

His lips closed around mine.

I turned and ran, up the stairs, before he could follow.

No time for thought. No time for fear. I had to, had to, had to… I had to get away. I had to be safe. I had to! It wasn’t possible… I hadn’t felt this way since I was four, since the very first blow.

I was terrified, but I had to overcome it so I could escape.

I closed the door to my room, panting. Not an instant passed before I heard his lumbering footsteps behind me.

I clicked the lock closed and prayed I would be safe.

I turned to the closet. There had to be something I could do. Eventually he would sleep, and I could run away. I couldn’t stay here. There had to be someone I could trust…

Quil. Half a memory, half a real savior. He had always loved me. He still would. He wouldn’t hurt me. I could find him. I could be safe.

I stuffed clothes into the backpack I still wore, ignoring the hammering of my heart. There was an ominous creaking sound, and then a crash.

The door fell to the floor.

I screamed.

He started to laugh, and I crouched by the bag, trying half-heartedly to hide.

“Oh, little Claire. What are you doing?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Packing a bag? Going to run away? Where are you going, little Claire?”

“To...” I began, then broke off, trembling.


“To Quil.”

He hissed. “Quil. You know what he wants? You know what he’d do to you, you stupid little girl?”

I shook my head.

“Well, I’ll show you.”

I screamed as he walked toward me.