Little Thoughts

• Four Months with a Psycho •

A/N: Part II of Eight Hours with a Psycho. I've flipped the perspective... (again!)

Something's not right. I don't want to be here. The air is foul and bitter. I try my phone, but his watching eye lingers. Act cool, I'm making it home tonight.

My mind has forgotten everything it used to know, it's getting ready to fight. I don't know who I am anymore, only how I can survive. Only how I will survive.

There are people, they notice the terror in my eyes. Yet they don't do a thing. I don't blame them, he puts on a lovely act. An enormous smile.

My gut feelings are confirmed, intuition is always right. He wants to hurt me, he tells me he's going to kill me. I can feel the adrenaline pumping into my muscles, preparing.

With his hands at my throat, I can do nothing but shove. The people think he is my friend, they think he is playing. He is laughing, but I am not.

Now something has changed. He doesn't want to kill me anymore. He doesn't want to hurt me anymore. He wants to stand too close. I want to vomit.

It's been eight hours. He's finally gone, but there's nothing left of me. "The tram doesn't leave for another ten minutes," but that's the best thing I've heard all day. I sit close to the tram security and I want to speak. My lips don't move.

My body is a zombie. I am alive but I am also dead. I want to return to my body soon, I don't like this feeling. I wonder if the security man can see me.

I am home now, I walk in as deep as I can. I become a statue, broken on the floor. I want to cry, but I am not sad. I can't tell if seconds or days are passing.

A mirror finally shows me what I don't want to see. A broken face. And I come back to my body and tears come too, but they are not tears of sadness. They are tears of disgust.

I am alone, with his voice echoing through my mind. I need to drown it out. I need to fill my head with noise. I need to sleep without the nightmares.

As the shock fades, I can't stop the tears. I need to breathe, I need someone to hold me. I am not okay. I don't want to go outside.

After days, I find my feet. But the moment I see him, I die a little all over again. My stomach hurts and my entire body shakes. I hide because I am scared.

Why is he following me? This time my stomach hurts, but I am not scared, I am angry. I will not be his little victim.

The men in charge who are supposed to help me dismiss my words. I am speaking, but I have no voice. They think I am silly. They think I am overreacting. They do nothing for me.

The sadness eventually comes and now it is all I am. I hate that I can't control it, I hate that I am still broken. I hate that I want to give up.

Now he is gone, and it is all over. I am fixed. I feel like I could float away, so light. But I still hate that he conquered, he won.

~ rhianna power (@rhiannalpower)