Black Moon (Currently Editing)
- Reads 1,125
- Votes 28
- Parts 10
MatureOngoing41m
Last published Sun, Sep 14, 2014
My eyes burn.
My body feels as though ice cackled through every vein.
My hair begins to darken and grow in thick curls.
A pain like frosted razors slices throughout my throat. I choke out a scream. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip, refusing to scream again. Hot, liquid flows front my lip onto my chin, dripping onto the floor's surface in front of me. Tears lace down my cheeks and cool the hot blood dripping onto my chin.
I force my eyes to open. Through thick lashes I stare up at the moon as it is slowly wrapped in a velvet of black.
"How?" I choke out through a scream.
The ice settles into a pit in my stomach, leaving me to feel as though I was stabbed a thousand times over. Pain rips down my back and shoulders into my hands. Through blurry vision I watch as my nails begin to grow into strong feline like points. I scream out again through ragged breaths as my mouth begins to bleed. I let out a sharp gasp of air as I feel razor like canines scrape the inside of my mouth.
A low whine escapes my lips as I try to stand. The pain is worsening. I carelessly try to walk away, desperately trying to find light in this night of darkness.
Then I fall. Everything translates into a colder and darker sleep than that I have ever known.
My eyes slowly begin to open after what feels like decades.
I am a stranger to my own body.
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" I scrub and scrub trying to make it go away. I'd happily go back to walking around internally dead than whatever this is. Watching the crimson substance go down the drain and off my skin- out of sight, out of mind, except it's not going away. I hated that pain was temporary but this... this pain I don't want it. I don't want to feel this. Tears begin to well in my eyes making my vision blurry. Weak. Anger surges in my veins and impulsively my fist connects with a tile on the wall of the shower shattering it. This is emotional. I don't do that. I don't do this- I don't cry in the shower. I don't let my emotions dictate my actions I haven't in a long time. It's stupid. It's childish. It's weak. I glance down at my knuckles on my right hand, watching the tiny cuts heal. Shouting, I punch the tile over and over and over again until blood runs down my arm and drips onto the shower floor. I reach my severely broken hand out under the water, momentarily stinging as water hits the open wounds which unfortunately close over seconds later. I crack whatever bones need it, back into place and look around me. The back wall of the shower is destroyed, shards of tile and blood scattered on the floor. As I stand under the scalding hot stream staring into nothing my mind falls silent for a split second. A few seconds of solace until everything comes crashing back. The tightness in my chest and my stomach, the cloudiness in my brain, the anger, the sadness. It all comes back. I sit down away from the shattered pieces of tile, curling my legs up and letting the near boiling water hit my back. There was a feeling of relief in losing everything I was. Whatever it is that has clawed it's way to the surface, I want it gone. I want that relief back. "
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