I lay on the couch and play on my phone. Same old routine. Ignore life for a couple hours and then sleep. Unfortunately, it hits me again. This monster I can't control. A feeling I can't explain. A knife as cold as ice pressed against my chest. But there's nothing there. I reach out to friends but no one can help. I try music and, although it numbs my pain, reminds me of my faults.
Words rush into my ear. Words I have heard too many times before. "Daughter." No stop! I mentally scream, my smiling face going to a neutral expression. "She." Please just stop! "Babygirl." "Kayla." Stop it! That's not my name! Cold, salty tears stream down my cheeks as more and more voices join in.
I reach out for my safety in the darkness of this feeling. Elastic meets touch and I quickly throw it on. I bind my chest. I beg for it to go so I can be happier but it won't. My chest is wrong. It's weight I didn't ask for. But the binder acts as a numbing tool. It keeps the monster at Bay. Oh how I wish I could undo the hands of time.
The fight was inevitable. I knew what I got into, by choice or not. I know I could be killed. I'm aware when I'm not doing things right. My chest gives me away, like a flashing sign saying "MA'AM" despite my best efforts to change it to "Sir."
YOU ARE READING
Vents
RandomI know no one will care but it's something I want to make for myself and maybe I'll get ideas later on for the other stories
