Intrinsic

Day 3

I swore under my breath like Darcy would if she wore a pair of leather pants in a disco party and wiped a salty lining of sweat with the back of my palm.

It was currently 7:00 pm on a Wednesday- and I had finished a medium pizza, two burgers, a bowl of oatmeal, and a shot of ginger juice since 12 pm.

To say I felt fantastic would be an understatement.

Pumping my twig-like legs faster, I whooshed out and adjusted the speed, giving them a break before turning it back up; a slow rhythm a part of my brain could not forget.

Releasing all the frustration this way was easy.

It transformed every curse word, every bit of anger my brain had kept in, every nose my fingers hadn't broken, into physical pain my body had become prone to.

It was as easy as breathing.

I thought of resorting to drawing on my body once- but shrunk back on the idea after a dentist's appointment.

We had enough doctors in the world to do that.

As the timer on my phone went off, I picked it up and bent down to shut the treadmill off; mid- step, the action released a popping sound from the back of my neck and a rush of euphoria ran through my brain.

A sense of calmness I didn't know my soul could feel again.

It's weird how humans try to find comfort in varying objects when little things bring you the kind of satisfaction even money cannot bless you with.

Neither money, nor people.

With lips pressed together in a thin line, I sat down and let the physical part of my conscious take over as my body bent, stretched and repeated sets of exercises that could clench and unclench your muscles at odd angles. The powerful lyrics of the "food song" ringing my ears, sweat running down my back, into my eyes, momentarily blinding the image of my mother walking into the room.

I immediately took control and sat up straight, pausing the hunger striking song.

"Hi, Maa." I smiled, the action causing her to look at her "13-year-old" adult of a daughter on the floor.

"Hallo! Kitna bhaago ki? Marna hai? *", she narrowed her eyes at me and opened the door to her room.

I shook my head and leaned back into armrest on the nearby couch.

"Nai Maa, just felt like running a lot. I ate a lot too-but I'll have some food after I shower.", I replied, lips tugging up into a wolfish grin.

With a shake of her head and an eye roll, she disappeared into her room after muttering, "Moti*" under her breath.

With slumped shoulders, I push myself up and grab a towel off of the fresh laundry pile, humming my way down the stairs, I quickly swiped over the notes folder my subconscious had reminded me to make after I almost dropped the leather notebook into peacock poop at university.

It feels nice, doesn't it?

I hum in return. It has only been three days-everything always feels nice in the beginning, my brain reminds her.

I bite my lip and push myself back into a chair.
And then my eyes glaze over.

Through loopholes and misty scents,
Two faced flesh and watery blend,
Hush little mistress, cold as ice,
Bonne nuit, dors bien, les murs portent des souris.

Dark creatures and torturous dreams,
Fire blend, honey melt, cookies, and cream. Painted their flesh with rainbow dashed spice, Bonne nuit, dors bien, les murs portent des souris.

"Oh, your eyes shine like the moon."
"The beauty, small and bright. You cannot carry all that's light."
My child, it's just in the airy night.
Bonne nuit, dors bien, les murs portent des souris.