Perfect, neat, clean. That's all I see-- the lamp's light reflecting garrishly on the bright, yellow walls that mock me, the carpet unbearably clear of the usual clutter.
Not one speck of dust is visible on the surface of the desk and the dresser--MY desk and MY dresser. Like a battlefield wiped empty of soldiers, the bodies collected and put in grisly piles--like the stack of papers that should be strewn about with no order.
I don't feel it at first, but I know it's coming, rising from the pits of my stomach in acidic gurgles that blacken and burn the bottom of my cavernous chest.
Consuming me.
Hooded eyes, planted knees, bowed head. Submission?
No. Never.
Teeth gritted and back hunched, I crouch with my head tilted down, panting. Growling. My inner beast roars with fury and my disbelief fuels the flames, welcoming the telltale signs of invasion.
I can't breathe through the haze of blackness that clings around the still, brittle, cracked lump of coal that sits nestled between my ribs and encased in a layer of cartilage. It crumbles and falls, aiding the slow burn of the cauldron that churns in my belly.
In its place sits a something.
The something tickles my fingertips, taunting little pinpricks that spread, making me clench my fists, hard. But it isn't enough. It's never enough. It's not air that I wish to grasp, it is... I don't know. I can't think. My energy is centered around the something that begins to swirl around chaotically, sucking my lungs into a vacuum and disconnecting the wires to my brain. I can't breathe, and as I look at the mirror on the wall--MY mirror on MY wall, I see a ghoul. Black hair, black eyes, purple shadows, and deathly white skin.
The reflection? Not mine.
...
Not mine.
And an explosion tears its way out of me, a scream of frustration and fury that shatters the foundation of my being, leaving lacerations that only I can see and wounds that only I can feel, reviving scars that only I can bear--a million, a billion, a trillion decibels higher than anything a human being can detect.
The silence verberates, obliterating the resistance within me.
The droopy whiskers and shiny bead eyes, the sewn on smiles and the plush bodies, all of the childish things swim dangerously around me, victim to the hurricane of darkness that works its way, out of control, through my body.
Oxygen is no longer a necessity, and no longer an option. I have no time to breathe, all I can do is destruct.
Destruct.
Destruct.
Grab, throw, tear, swing.
It's all a blur, my feet stamp out an unknown meter of insanity, and the ceiling booms, rearing back in fear. I am filled to the brim with something, except that something is EVERYTHING. It makes me invincible, it makes me reckless, it makes me a force of nature. A conscious decision to let go of conscience.
Kick, punch, rip, bite, cut.
Destruct.
Destruct.
Destruct.
Destruct.
DESTRUCT.
Nothing will come in my way and survive, EVER again. I will NOT be defeated, I will be the fury that implodes skulls with pressure, I will be the obliterator of everything and NOTHING will ever obliterate ME the way that I have been obliterated. I am ME. This is MINE. I will be in control, I will force submission, I will do ANYTHING. I CAN do anything.
A roar of triumph, of sick satisfaction; a declaration of war.
The hurricane stills, and the winds begin to contract, concentrate, building, building, building... I can no longer hold it. I don't want to hold it. I will unleash it all, throw it like that backhand I've always wanted to give, and I will EXIST. I will have my life.
I will take it back.
I raise the object in my hands, ready to hear it crash, ready to take my plan to the next level, ready to feed the blackness in my chest cavity, ready to--
The door squeaks open.
I breathe in oxygen, and I see wide, innocent eyes.
"Is something wrong?"
_____________________________________________________
True story. It is dramatized... but I think the description is kind of accurate. Just not on a literal level.
Pretty happy I got past this point in my life, though. XD
So... whaddya think?
-October Grey
