Mental Detainment

CHAPTER EIGHT

8. You won't live forever, either

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Your daughter is choking, drowning in her own blood and the body achieves what the mind believes and death is just what she wants, but it's not like life was going to treat her well anyway. Thoughts of her daddy, your once beloved husband, pollute the air she struggles to inhale. She's wondering if he'll attend the funeral or come up with an excuse to be absent, like with every other ceremony associated with her being.

At least you was there for her during those times, (but you can't resist a chance to put yourself on show).

The boy doesn't move to help, what has your kind come to today? You've always been selfish creatures, each serving your own, but right now you're on the top of the food chain, what's there to worry about? Soon the scavengers will be picking at her bones, (or so you hope), and all that's left will be a rotting corpse, a sight more beautiful by a ten fold, than what lives in your soul.

You roll your shoulders and move onto the boy, licking your lips whilst picturing the euphoria.

He's all wide-eyed and innocence and naive youth. He's all trembling lips and dread and a heart that's beating beyond control—at least adrenaline got that part right. It's fight or flight, but in his case, it's fright and leaden limbs because you're the bane of his existence, (just know that karma has a way).

You've got that predatorial sashay now that you're on familiar ground, death at your feet and there's wetness rolling down his cheeks. The poor lad is traumatised, and now you're going to deepen the roots of the mental destruction that has been planted in his mind.

Just watch out for the blue and red lights.

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