𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙬𝙤 • 𝙃𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 •

❝She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.❞

•••

I walk around my room in circles, trying to immerse myself in the thoughts I knew would find me, beat me up, and throw me out; it was only a matter of time. Why ignore them when my fate was inevitable? This was a lesson I learned over time. Do not hide behind your fears, do not cower, but rather drench yourself in them. I'd try not to hide, although here I was, locked behind only two doors. So much, yet so little.

When I look up from the marble floor and around my room, I begin to feel so extremely confused. My mind did not know what to do with itself and neither did I. All the racing thoughts in my head disappear, yet they are scrambling at the same time. It was all hollow, yet it was all overflowing. At once, my breathing quickens as I struggle to keep my balance, knees weak and shaky, falling slowly, like honey out of a pot. 

Where was my strength? I knew I had it, but where was it now?

Shutting my eyes closed in frustration, I attempt to take calming breathes. They come out ragged and short entirely causing my anxiety to deepen. I can just barely feel beads of sweat roll down my face as I let out a quiet cry in disappointment, anger, and resentment; this was the only way I could let myself feel. Once again, I had let myself surrender to my feelings and be vulnerable.

Opening my eyes, I fight against the urge to collapse on the floor, succumbing to my trembling limbs. Instead, I search for the courage and strength I knew was in me, and limp to the seemingly never-ending journey of getting to my bathroom for shelter against this life I did not want. 

Finally, I manage to gently close the door behind me, balancing my frail figure upon the cold door, easing me slightly. I feel restricted in my clothes and begin to leisurely peel them off myself. My breathing seems to slow, though my hands still shiver. When I'm left in only my underwear and bra, I decided to look at myself in the mirror. 

Staring at my completion in the mirror, I see the darkness fighting a battle with my dimming spirit, quickly coming to surrender as I had before. Again and again and again. Over and over and over; I kept on losing. Aggravation builds up and towers above me like Darkness often did.

As my chest goes heavy, my eyes begin to water. I make a choked sound as I stare intently at the deep, profound scar lining its way from the upper side of my stomach going diagonally to the bottom. Lips quivering, hands shaking, I softly touch the scar, left to right in agony and defeat.

Looking from my stomach to my face, I see the disgust prominent in my eyes. I see my dark, dull, short lengthed hair. I see plump lips, looking too big for my face. I see my long, nose that I wish I could shorten and replace the bump at the bridge instead with a curve. I see the bland and lifeless colour of my eyes, subconsciously comparing them to the bright green of Apollo's. His were beautiful, striking, while all of me was boring, plain, and ill-favoured. 

Every day, I wish I had the ability to change myself; the way I looked, the way I acted. But of course, this was only a wish, a dream I knew would not come true. No matter how much I dreamt, I would always stay the same girl, and I hated that.

I hated myself.

I hated that I hated myself.

And as I stare on, longer and longer, I can't recognize myself and only see a stranger. I stranger I wish I had not seen, because I knew that this was not me. A feeling of exasperation overwhelms me, as I see the faint familiarity of Darkness looming inside me, waiting to be unleashed.