Everyone Will Suffer
This is my fan fiction for The Ring, based on Samara Morgan's time in the well. It will cover her getting pushed in and the week she spent there. It is a one-shot story and will most likely not be expanded, though I may be persuaded otherwise in the future.
Author's note: This is my entry for the Secret Santa competition in The Council (a forum). Happy Christmas, Kaiser Drake Yagami.
"All around, the world is spinning. When it stops, it's only just beginning."
That's what I sang when I stood by the well that day. I was only eight years old and already everything had gone wrong in my life. So there I was, by the well, singing. My voice echoed off the walls of the well. I liked the sound it made. But I didn't like the well. It scared me. I was always scared of falling in. When I was younger, I was sure that someone would catch me if I fell. Now, I wasn't so sure.
It had all started when Mommy started seeing the same things that I saw. They were terrifying visions, almost like nightmares that I had when I was awake. I don't know how she saw them. It was weird. But anyway, we were both put in a mental hospital.
I had to stay in a white room, all by myself. There was a little camera there that seemed to watch my every move. Sometimes, when I was bored, I'd look at it. I didn't like it. It made me feel even more trapped.
Then some doctors would try to talk to me. I didn't like that either. I still remember a conversation I had with one of them…
"Let's talk about the pictures, Samara."
He was talking about the strange pictures, supposedly drawn by me. But I hadn't drawn them. I'd just seen them in the visions. Then, they… appeared on the paper. It was as if someone or something was controlling me like a puppet, making me draw them.
"How did you make them?" When I didn't answer, he tried again. "Samara? How did you make these pictures?"
I knew that I had to answer. Otherwise, he'd never stop talking. I just decided to tell the truth.
"I don't make them. I see them. And then… they are."
"Samara." He sounded stern. "I need you to start telling the truth, OK?"
I was angry. I was telling the truth. Why didn't he believe me? No one believed me. Except for one person…
"Can I see my mommy?" I asked. She would believe me. She would know I was telling the truth.
"No, Samara. Not until we understand what's up with you." He was really starting to annoy me. There was nothing 'up' with me! It wasn't like I was doing it on purpose. But just like all the other doctors, he thought I was sick or something. And I wasn't.
"I love my mommy," I said.
"Yes, you do. And you don't want to hurt her anymore, do you?" Of course I didn't. I didn't want to hurt her at all. It just happened.
"But I do. And I'm sorry," I said truthfully. I paused a little before I spoke again. "It won't stop."
"Well, that's why you're here. So that I can help you to make it stop," he said. He didn't sound like he cared. He sounded so bored, like he didn't want to be there. That made two of us. I didn't want to be there. I wanted to be with my mommy.
"He's going to leave me here," I said, without really thinking.
"They just want to help you." He was lying. Daddy never liked me, and now he hated me.
"Not Daddy," I insisted.
"Your daddy loves you," he said. He was lying again.
"Daddy loves the horses. He wants me to go away. But he doesn't know…" I trailed off. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldn't understand.
"He doesn't know what, Samara?" I still didn't answer. And this time, I was going to stay silent. "Samara?"
I never said anything. They eventually brought me to my room. The doctor never knew. I never spoke at that place again.
Now I was by the well. Singing. Hoping that, someday, things would be better.
The horses were gone. They'd killed themselves. I knew that Daddy blamed me. And maybe Mommy did too. I didn't know.
I heard footsteps behind me. I feel scared, like something really awful is going to happen. I've been having it for a while now, especially when I saw the visions. I never slept much. But when the nightmares started happening, I never slept. But I still saw the images.
I tried to block out the feeling.
"Isn't it a beautiful day, Samara?"
It was only Mommy. I tried to relax. She'd never hurt me, would she?
"I know things will get better," she said, walking closer to me.
I hoped that they would. I didn't like the situation I was in then.
Suddenly, something was pulled over my head. I couldn't see. I struggled, but it didn't help. It only took me a few seconds to realise what was happening. She had pulled the trash bag over my head. She was trying to kill me!
"All I ever wanted was you," she whispered.
Then why was she hurting me?
But she wasn't done. I felt her pushing me. No. Not the well. Anywhere but the well. I always thought she'd save me if I did fall in.
I was falling. Falling, falling, falling.
And then I hit the bottom. I looked up, panicking. She was covering the well, making sure that I couldn't escape.
The light was slowly disappearing. When it was covered, there was a circle of light shining through. A ring.
I spent seven days in that well.
I tried many times to escape. I tried climbing up when Mommy had gone away. I started climbing up, holding onto the bricks. But I fell. And when I did, I looked at my finger. My nail had been ripped off.
By the third day, all of my nails were gone. I couldn't escape.
I felt anger at everyone. Everyone. I was angry at Daddy for locking me up in the barn. I was angry at the horses for killing themselves and making Mommy blame me. I was angry at Mommy for pushing me into the well.
I was angry at the world. No one was suffering like I was. They were all happy. But I wasn't.
On the fourth day, I saw something terrifying. It was Mommy, walking to the edge of the cliff. She'd always told me to be careful. If anyone fell, they'd die.
She stopped at the edge. Leaned forward. And fell.
She died. She killed herself.
Now she was dead. And here I was, rotting away in the well.
I still never slept. But, like always, I saw the strange, nightmarish visions. They were more like memories this time. There was the tree that looked like it was on fire. The chair, where I sat in the hospital. Mommy, brushing her hair and then me, bringing the mirror across the hall. The dead horses.
On the seventh day, I was almost too weak to do anything. That was the day I died.
But I lived on. And I was stronger.
I made a promise. They'd all feel pain for seven days, like I did. And at the end of those seven days, they'd die. Everyone would feel my pain. Everyone would go through what I went through.
Everyone would suffer.
That is my fan fiction. I hope everyone liked it. Any reviews are more than welcome. Thanks for reading!