wake up.

X

I'm screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming. I can't feel my face, but I clutch onto my head anyway, raking my nails roughly through my scalp. I tear my gaze to the gross tiled floor of the ladies bathroom. Breathe, Ananka. Breathe. I fall silent as I hear another pair of sharp intakes.
I'm not alone.
I look up suddenly, my unfocused eyes searching for the other person occupying this space. My eyes clear as they latch onto the figure sunken against the base of the door, chest rising and falling unevenly as they stare at me with absolute horror. I look at her face, recognition sparking in my mind. Mariah.
Oh, I deserve a special place in hell. Of course it had to be her seeing me like this. The one person who actually respects me enough to sit and chat with me, to actually like me, to not want to run away from me. I've ruined it. I've ruined her. I'm a monster.
Monster.
Monster.
Monster.
I let my face fall into the palms of my soiled hands. My tears leak through the space between my fingers, but I do not care. I'm awful. I'm horrifying. I'm useless. I'm insane. I should kill myself.
A warm pair of arms wrap around my shoulders, but it only wants to make me cry more. Why?
Why?
Why?
Why?
She shushes me gently, placing a hand behind my head and comfortingly stroking. I lean into Mariah more, finding myself clutching onto her jacket as if I expect her to pull away. And I do expect that. But Mariah is always too unpredictable.
"I'm so sorry, Ananka." she mumbles into my hair, rocking us both back and forth slightly. "I'm so, so sorry."
I look up at her through glassy eyes, sure that confusion is written all over my face.
"Why are you sorry?" I shakily question, sniffing and wiping my eyes. I sit up and lean back against the wall, Mariah mirroring me as she sits beside me.
"I should've listened to you when you told me to stop, but I kept going. I kept listing those horrible fears... God I'm such an awful friend."
I shake my head.
"No, you're the bestest friend I could've asked for... and my only one, technically, but it's not your fault."
"Yes, it is! Ananka, if I hadn't said anything you wouldn't have str-"
"Mariah, I'm fine. I promise. I just... zone out a lot. And it's those moments that hurt me, not you!"
Mariah gnaws on the side of her lip, groaning and sliding her face into her hands. She lifted her head again, looking me up and down repeatedly, worry smeared across her face. It's always worry.
I sigh, turning my head away from her and instead looking up at the ceiling. I take a deep breath, knowing that Mariah is listening to me attentively.
"Look, Mari... I'm scared. I'm scared of myself and my mind, and scared about these whole episodes that I have... but I'm mostly scared of how people will react to me. Especially you." I pause and take another breath, now looking over at Mariah. "I'm scared that I'll always be alone, that nobody can come and help me, that I'll have these visions for the rest of my life. I'm so bloody scared, Mariah. So, so scared."
Mariah places a hand over mine, willing me to go on. She keeps on looking me up and down. I go on.
"A-and I have these... these monsters, and they follow me around everywhere. I think it's my fear, because it always takes shape into what I'm scared of. It's shifted into my father, Ms. Gordon, Ms. Weatherby, even your mum! But it also shifts into this black creature that never lets me eat and... and you."
Mariah is silent next to me, though I know that she's trying to think of what to say. I mean, I can't blame her. What can she say? But I've also realised that I've opened up to someone. I talked about my mind. It felt nice for a few seconds.. But that niceness faded away. It's long gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
I chuckle to myself drily. This wasn't an attempt to get rid of this parasite in my mind, but I realise that the effort was made. But i can still feel it lingering. Is it building up again? I'm so useless, so stupid, so naive that I thought talking to someone would help me. It didn't. It still doesn't. I shouldn't have said anything.
I look down at myself, and the base of my shirt rides up. I go to pull the cloth down, but I falter. I see some slight discolouration on my skin, and my mind immediately remembers Ms. Gordon. She stabbed me.
I lift my shirt up and stifle a scream. I'm purple. My stomach is littered with blue and purple bruises. Beside me, Mariah moves with her arms out-stretched, but it wasn't in a threatening way. I stand, pushing her back firmly and walking over to the bathroom mirror. I don't know if I'm screaming, but my mouth is open and my eyes are wide with fear and disbelief. The purple isn't just on my stomach. It's all over my neck too, just like when I saw my reflection in the medical bay.
Suddenly I feel light-headed, so faint that I don't see or feel Mariah run up behind me and hold me tight. I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe.
And once again, everything turns black.