The Darkness That Consumes Us

Chapter 5

     I woke with a start, jumping up from my bed. The scream still stuck in my throat. I could feel my perspiration cling to my body. Ragged breaths exiting my lungs and my heart ready to jump out of my chest. My mind foggy with lingering images I wish weren't there. I looked around the dark room and felt my way towards my night stand. Turning on the lamp I sat at the edge of my bed with my head in my shaking hands. It looked like I had fucking tremors.

     My baby hairs cling to my forehead, while the rest of it I'm sure looked like a curly rats nest sprouting from my head. I grabbed my phone off the floor, it must have fallen when I sprang up from my bed. Rubbing the left over sleep in my eyes I took note that it was 4:37 am. I really fucking hope no one heard me. I can't show them this, how fucked in the head I really am.

     I don't do this.

     I don't lose it. I don't lose control. I'm always calculated and precise. You only see what I want you to see. Even those closest to me still get fooled by me. Deceit comes second nature to me, especially when it benefits me or has to do with my feelings. That's what's so infuriating about this, I lost control. I'm vulnerable to the own horrors of my mind. I can't lie to myself.

    I can't make myself believe that I'm okay. I can't act like what I saw that day won't be engraved into my memory forever. I can't act like it doesn't effect me. My dreams are plagued with memories of all the fucked up shit that's happened in my life. My mind infested with the lies, pain, and suffering I've endured. Crawling with self hatred and doubt. Anger  festering towards the world for the cards I was dealt, towards the people who shaped me, not for the better but worse. And most of all, I'm angry at myself for letting shit get to me. I should be stronger than this.

     I have to be stronger than this. Not only for myself but for the people I care about. They have enough going on without my shit adding onto it. I can't afford to fall apart. Especially not when there's no one who will truly ever be able to help me pick up my broken pieces.

     That's exactly why I get up off the floor and and make my way out of my room, towards the bathroom. I quickly strip from my sweaty clothes and get in the shower. The water cascades down my golden skin. The water nearly scalding, but helps relax my tense muscles. Planting my forehead against the cold tile and my hands on either side of my head, I let my mind clear. My eyes tightly shut I just stand under the water for a long while, thinking about absolutely nothing. After a while, I start washing myself quickly.

Getting out the shower and wrapping a fluffy white towel around myself I walk back to my room. Before I make it their though, I pass the living room and come to a halt when I see a mop of black hair and a tall figure sprawled on the couch. I make my way towards my brother, towel still tightly clutched to my chest and see him. He has bloody knuckles again and some scratches on his face. I can see half of his face, due to him lying on his stomach. He was still in his jeans and black shirt. He must have come home from wherever the fuck he goes and crashed. Sighing, I get the blanket neatly folded on the couch and drape it over his large figure. He shouldn't work himself this hard. I know he thinks he hides it well but I can see the bags under his eyes, the exhaustion that shines through them. The slight slump of his shoulders, almost as if they're weighed down by the weight of the world. The lost, forlorn look he gets when he's thinking. He thinks he hides it well, and he does for the most part. But broken people can recognize another when we see them. He can't hide from me, never from me. Sometimes I catch him staring at me and it's almost as if we both see each other. Just that we're to scared to say anything to one another. Fear that if we say it out loud, that if we say we aren't okay. We'll break. And far worse than now. I just hope one day that look is complete whipped off his face. If anyone deserves happiness, it's my brother. With that though in mind, I smile sadly at his figure, shoulders slumping slightly.