Rising sun.

Nobody cares that you're broken.

There are insects in my skin and they won't stop moving, not matter how hard I scratch or how much I bleed. I see them moving under my skin and it's almost as scary as the black eyes and the ever-present voices. 

I can't go anywhere where they aren't and my stomach is churning with the imminent threat of vomiting. Dean's ceiling is moving and Dean's voice is echoing from his room and I hope to high heavens that they're alright. 

Castiel was all I had when my sky went falling down, before then it was all screaming and therapists, frowning faces and disbelieving tones. I need water, everything will be okay if I can just calm down.

I tiptoe to the bathroom, hearing their faint voices through their bedroom door and I know they won't be fully okay again and I know that Dean didn't mean any harm but part of me wants to give him a piece of my mind. Castiel has been in a fragile state of mind the last thing he needs is a reawakening of dean's suicide attempt. 

The bathroom is open when I get in there and I nearly flinch away from the mirror, I've never been a fan, always weary of what was going to be there. But thankfully, it was myself, my red hair tangled and all over the place and my red eyes. I start washing the blood from out of my fingernails when the scraping starts and my heart starts thudding. 

This shouldn't be happening, this wasn't real it never was, but the proof is there when I look up at the mirror, at the bloody, ragged hand that grips over the edge and the pitch eyes that looked back at me. 

"Shhhhhh, I know," she starts, her mouth twisting into a cruel smile. 

I feel my fingers on my face and I can't pull it off, the marks on her - my face they're moving and black and wrong and I can't get them off, I can't feel it.

"STOP IT," I know I'm screaming, I know she doesn't care, she never did, the girl that lives in my head never does. And the wailing gets louder, and they're all promising I'll be alone sooner than I can handle.

I can't make it stop and they're moving again, through my hair and my neck and she's laughing so loud I can't hear myself think. "Please, make it stop, you aren't here, not today not now," I'm begging, it's pathetic, but I'd only just gotten myself back I can't lose again to this thing that I am. 

I slam my fist into the mirror and it stops, it finally stops and I can't stop scraping my nails up my arm. There are insects in my skin and they never go away.