Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Epilogue

Trigger Warning(s): explicit suicidal thoughts, unintended self-harm, schizophrenia-induced auditory and visual hallucinations. this is another trigger-heavy chapter.

Paranoid by Klergy and Ames

~ Anesa's Point of View ~

10:38 PM, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 2014 (16 YEARS EARLIER). BUSAN, SOUTH KOREA.

Children laughing.

The creaking of swings on a playground.

The squeaking of rats echoing through a sewer.

My mother screaming at me.

You are worthless.

You will never amount to anything.

Everyone hates you.

You might as well just kill yourself.

Get it over with.

Spare everyone the pain of having to deal with you.

I curled my knees closer to my chest, making myself as small as possible to huddle in the corner of a closet. My breathing quickened, chest tightening, throat constricting as if there were a noose around my neck. I could feel the abrasive material scraping my skin raw, and I instinctively lifted my hand to claw at my neck. Liquid trickled down my fingers, but I ignored the ticklish sensation, the burning of my throat – it was from the rope, and I had to get the rope off.

Let it kill you, my mother hissed. Her harsh dialect had always appeared during psychotic episodes, when she would grip me around the neck and throw me against the wall. She was the rope constricting me, making my lungs burn from a lack of air. I had to get her off. Anesa, let yourself die. Kill yourself, like you killed me.

"I didn't," I croaked, my sanity slipping with every moment. The children were still laughing, the swings still creaking, the rats still squeaking. It was a discordant orchestra of insanity, and every time my mother's voice raised to forte, it was all I could do not to throw my head back against the wall, not to scrape away my scalp.

I knew by now that only made the voices worse, and it left me with a headache.

You stabbed me. TWELVE TIMES.

A sharp pang blossomed in my chest, so abrupt and with so much force that I cried out and doubled over. My forehead accidentally slammed against my knee, and I saw stars in the surrounding blackness. It didn't stop, never dulling as I was stabbed again and again and again. My hands scrambled to shield my chest, to protect it from the assailant's knife.

"Please, please, stop!" Tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision, rolling down my cheeks and dripping to the raw skin of my neck. The knife stabbed my head this time, and I jerked to the side. My cheek pressed into a jagged edge on the floor, reminding me that I was sitting in a closet. Alone.

There was no one to stab me.

But when I lowered my hands from my head, I saw dried blood clinging to my fingernails and crimson liquid dripping into the crevices between my fingers. My last thread of sanity fled. I let out a bloodcurdling scream.

It was real. I had no escape. I was going to die.

"Anesa!" The voice was muffled, originating from beyond the closed door. The knob twisted, only for my brother to be shoved away from my hiding place. "Is... is Anesa in there?"