Reach Out Abyssal Hand

Dark Cycles Broke

Circles.
Pitch black circles.
Spirals.
Spinning.
Hell.
It probably feels like this. Just like this.
Nausea will only catch up with me in time if I don't wake. It feels different from the other dreams. This is darker. The others were grey. Grey as can be. This is the definition of the void after I've been encased in a black hole. It sucks my life. Slowly. I guess that would be unreasonable, but who's asking?
I sink into the black liquid that seems to be pulling me in with all of its strength. It's too strong. Why would I bother to try and escape. Draining life away, bit by bit, I guess I'll just sit here. I'll sit here until I'm gone.
It pulls at my limbs, eats at my heart, tugs at my head, causing this endless spinning. It hurts too much. I need to get out, but maybe it can help. Eventually. Maybe not.
I never know where my mind goes.
He would've been there for me if it weren't for what happened.

After what feels like hours of noise blasting in my ears and my body losing all energy, a faint and quiet noise slowly grabs my attention. I try to ignore it only to come to terms with myself.
Gasping for air, the darkness has evaporated from my sight. My eyes adjust to the brightness in my room. I feel like I just wound up on an island after almost drowning in the depths of the ocean. I cough and realize I'm dehydrated. When I go to grab my water, I reach for nothing. I wasn't thirsty last night. No water on my bedside table. Oh well.
I don't feel like getting up, grabbing a glass, and pouring water. I guess my dry, cracked mouth will have to wait.
I check my stomach to see if it makes noise. It doesn't. Guess food is checked off. What else am I missing?

"Hijo!"
Oh. Right. The one alarm that won't go on snooze.
"What?" This woman. This woman is getting on my nerves.
"We have visitors. If you plan on leaving your room at all, please, at least brush your hair and hydrate!" I roll my eyes. I know she can't see, but I hope she can feel it.

I creep downstairs and into the kitchen to get myself two water bottles and when I turn around, I hear a yelp.
"You look awful!" She won't keep her trap shut.
"Wow. Thanks. That's helpful, ma." She takes my cheek and frowns a more worried look.
"Listen, I know it's been hard. You need to move on. I won't let you stay like this!" She stretches out my cheeks and hugs me tighter than that force that was pulling me in my dream.
"You never listen to how I feel. How I think." I bump her shoulder. I give her a disappointed face and walk back upstairs and into the bathroom.

The bathroom is more pristine than it has ever been. She must've cleaned it before calling for me.
I know she didn't tell me to brush my hair but I just felt it needed to be done.
I look at myself in the mirror and notice all of my disgusting, horrid flaws.
My black hair hangs low, in the center of my face. I take the brush and begin my task. Brushing it aside, failing miserably, trying and trying. Nothing ever works. I don't plan on cutting my hair either. While doing so, I find my blemishes have only grown. My acne spreads and makes my tan skin seem red. My eye bags are deep and purple. I look  death . I wouldn't be surprised if I was.

I head back over to my room and chat with my friends This is my happy place. They care for me. We will talk for hours on end and make fun of each other when we're bored. I never really think of anything rude to say, so I just sit there in silence.
Whenever there aren't any games I like to play, I just play around with some random pencil that I find on my bed and talk with them. We joke about the amount of therapists that have tried to fix me. I don't even know why they try. Why ma tries. Why I try.

I hear the door open downstairs and a calming voice enter. I don't think I've heard their voice before.
I'm not usually one to question, but why would she just bring a random person into the house without letting me know who it really is? I hope it's not a bratty friend she just met on a dating app that she thinks is a friendship app.

"ALEX!" And now she's screaming my name again.
I manage to bring my body downstairs to see to whatever she wants.
"Yes, mami?" I look at this person she has brought into the house only to see she has a clipboard in hand.
"Hi! You must be Alexander?" I nod and glance back over to my ma to see that she's showing her guilt.
I see the person's smile, which aches me. "Ma... I told you that I'm done with therapists! They don't do shit for me and you only make it worse! Now please, do me a favor, and leave me alone." I walk back upstairs, this time, with a nauseous, gut wrenching pain.