captive

late to the party

I crept into the bathroom to brush my teeth, the bathroom was the warmest room and I was thankful for that when I couldn't afford hot water. Grabbing my toothbrush I ran it under the tap, the reflection from the tap made me look like an alien. I almost flinched at my extremely noticeable eye bags, my cheekbones protruding and my skin youthful but clung to my cheeks. I would have attempted to get a proper look at myself in the bathroom mirror, but I unfortunately smashed it in a minor meltdown the other week. Not only had my face aged but my soul had. I felt like I had lived twice as long as I actually had.

The cheap toothpaste tasted gross and left a horrid aftertaste on my tongue. Spitting as much of it out as I could I splashed my face with water and picked up a pair of pants that I had hand washed the night before, it was the warmest room in the house as the kitchen of the takeaway kitchens were right below me, therefore they would dry the quickest in here. I hadn't had enough money to go the laundromat recently and so I had resorted to hand washing certain things until I could take everything I owned over to save money. That was how I got by, with no stable income and no way of getting one I lived like some rat trapped in this physical manifestation of my nightmares. I hate taking money from them, so I live like vermin.

My flat was small, there were two small flats on the same floor above the takeaway. Nothing but a creaky set of stairs between me and that safety hazard. Barely passing as one star the food was cheap, yet tasted even cheaper. The smell of grease was always present in the hallway leading up to the flats, it made me nauseous but it never infected my space. If you could even call it a flat, there was a tiny kitchen in the corner of my bedroom and the only other room was this tiny bathroom which hadn't been updated or cleaned (properly) since the 1970s . The walls painted a light grey, it was on sale and I needed to cover the disgusting watermarks and pollution. A single bed that hid in the corner next to my only window. A desk with an old chunky laptop and a few books dumped on top, between the desk and bed laid a small drawer. The outside painted with a flaking black, my floor plain wood. A stained rug in the middle of the room masked a particularly rusty nail patch. A sofa and coffee table I found on the street against the back wall. A bookcase leaned on the sofa with tattered books littered the weak shelves, a box of my old life stuffed on top of it.

I scrunched the underwear in my hand, they were still a little damp but I didn't have any other clean pairs, I had even wore a pair two days in a row as I hadn't had time to wash any.

I was so tired of this life, I worked my ass off all the time and for what? I never got paid and I didn't even want to do this. God I had been so busy, I barely have enough time to sleep... Before I knew it I was lost in thought, pondering my own existence.

What a sad existence it was.

Before I knew it something was boiling inside of me. Tears welled up in my eyes as I pondered what my life had come to. The burning spread down my cheeks dripping onto my chest. It wasn't exactly how I had planned my life, I did not dream about living above a takeaway as a little girl. I suffered from anxiety, having panic attacks whilst I slept. It is hard to grasp how terrifying it is to wake from your most vulnerable state and then be fearful of everything around you. I hated who I had become, how pathetic my life was. I knew some had it worse than me but that did not save me from drowning in my hatred, my sadness, my selfishness, my broken pride and my own desperation. I felt ashamed of how sad I felt, as if I was undeserving to feel this way. I thought I was so much stronger than everyone else but in reality I think I might be the weakest.

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After dressing myself and splashing my face again I stuffed my phone, that is probably older than me, into my little rucksack along with my emergency money that I took everywhere with me incase I got lost, hungry or worse. Although I was aware of how little it was, it comforted me. I placed a book that I was halfway through into the bag along with a scarf for later if I got cold. I had gotten it as a gift from a friend in middle school, and whilst I was not a sentimental person my neck got damn cold. Those were simpler days though, only four mediocore years but they passed me by so quick.

Grabbing my earphones I went to place them in my bag when the tape that held one of the speakers on fell off along the with earpiece. It hit the floor with a clack and rolled in between two rotten floor boards. I just stood there stunned. My jaw refused to pick itself up from the floor, a squeak escaping my mouth. I knew it was only a minor thing and I could still use the other earphone but it was the last straw. A perfectly disappointing ending to my week, although every week was disappointing. At this rate I would be reduced to stealing to have anything decent in my life.

I counted to ten slowly, hoping to calm myself down with a breathing exercise but I felt it rise up, anger boiling inside of me. I tried to keep it in but my body felt like glass, the edges cracking under the pressure. It was like water was pressing against my skin, waiting to burst out and break me.

"break" echoed in my head,

"break break break"

I didn't recognise the voice, it was quiet at first and you wouldn't have heard I unless you were purposefully listening. The chanting continues and the only thing I can think is "break". I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. The voice echoes around my skull, rattling around and consuming my thoughts.

"break break breAK"

It started to get louder

"break break BREAK"

I wanted to scream

"break BREAK BREAK"

The voice is so sinister

"BREAK BREAK BREAK"

I feel like I'm going to pass out

"BREAK BREAK BREAK"

Whats happening? I'm scared

"BREAK BREAK BREAK"

help me please!

"BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK "

it got faster

"BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK BREA-"

Then it stopped.

I hadn't realised I had scrunched up into a ball, my knuckles white from gripping my knees. My cheeks wet with the tears that leaked from my eyes trailing down my puffy face and bony neck. I was left with an uncomfortable silence. The kind of silence that swallows you whole and makes your ears ring. The kind of silence thats hard to breath in.The kind of silence that makes you feel so alone its hard to bear. Trying to pull myself together I scrambled to my feet, grabbing my bag and my shoes as I looked at my clock.

It read 5:06: AM

Shit, I'm late.