TW; mentions of suicidal thoughts
It's dark, quiet even. But it can't be described as peaceful, its anything but. They're mumbling- whispering, they're angry and aggressive towards my sanity. They're after something, I just don't know what.
It hurts, physically and emotionally. I'm frustrated because I can't do anything to stop them except cut and I can't do that. I can't break my promise- I can't say I don't want to because then I'd be lying- the voices are growing louder by the second, they're out for my blood, out for me to become insane.
I'm losing to myself by the second, I can't feel my hands anymore, I'm suffocating on my own conscience: it almost feels like I'm drowning over and over, in a pit of fire, like hot iron. My hands grow cold, they're blue and icey. Growing weak and unresponsive.
I can't break now. But I'm about to. The voices never really stop, even when I want to cut, even when I do. They don't. It's almost like they want me to end it- why? Why would they want to kill themselves and break away? Why not go through with the pain and suffering forever? They want me to feel this, but they want me to stop feeling. Why can't they make up their god damn minds about it all, they know what they're doing. They enjoy doing it.
I'm crawling out of a ditch, its surprisingly warm but its too hot. It's burning, my head feels like its full of water and it hurts. It hurts so much, and yet I can't hear any people- any thing. It's oddly calming, almost peaceful. I'm surrounded by blankness, but I'm not afraid anymore. I'm okay, because now I'm alone with my own thoughts and not their voices driving me crazy all of the time.
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Coffee Break
Misteri / ThrillerCoffee Break is a mixture of short stories that I write to leave my writers block or just because I have some creativity to write things that aren't relevant to my previous stories. They mainly aren't based off of anything real, but could have a dee...