Excerpts of A Chaotic Mind

*TW* perhaps in a kinder world

*unedited*

I need it. I need it. Where is it?

Sobriety's two heads snapped at me as I reached for the quiet beyond the white discs I cant seem to find.

Throwing these black sheets about, tangled in them as I search for my sanity. My stomach is hollowing with each shaking breath that passes through these chapped lips. Tears have long ago dried out, but the anguished cries still roared through every bone in my body.

Where are they? I just had them.

That lump in my throat grows with the need to scream at the injustice of the world I find myself trapped in.

Her face. His face. The words unsaid and those that were.

Throwing myself off the edge of this old firm mattress as if it would imitate the freefall that became more appealing with every memory that resurfaces; perhaps Ill find refuge among the dust below.

I begin, on hands and knees, now pressed flat to the ground, I rummage through discarded items. I start tossing the pillows fallen from my bed in the search; the stuffed faces that followed me from childhood now judge my every frantic movement.

I need them. I need hi- no.

I kick a pillow across the room and fall to my knees, whimpering with relief when I hear the familiar rattling as my favourite white bottle rolls across the dark grey carpet. I scramble for the bottle, knees bruised and elbows stinging with carpet burn. My dry throat burns a little louder in response, too dry to salivate over my salvation. Each gulp of water aided the multitude of white discs down my throat.

A sad smile stretches my lips as I slowly recline.

When the knocking on the door begins, I am reminded that none of my weaknesses could ever be a private affair. Im half aware of a voice fighting through the incessant knocking, but the haze had begun, and I closed my eyes to travel faster.

The knocking becomes frantic banging before it finishes with a resonating crash. The handle dislodged from its place and the framing splintered.

Too late.

My tears fall silently as I allow the world to fade away. One hand loosely holding the white bottle, the other rested over my fading heartbeat as I wait for the moment where the world finally releases me from my painful position as grief bearer.

Perhaps in a kinder world, I could have survived a little longer.