『♢ Tнειя εиd ιѕ ƒιχεd тσ тнειя вεgιииιиg; αѕ тнε ƒlαмε ιѕ вσυиd тσ тнε cσαl - Aиd тнε εмвεяѕ тσ αѕн.♢』
❛ Iƒ тнσυ dσεѕт ωεll, ѕнαlт тнσυ иσт вε αccερтεd? αиd ιƒ тнσυ dσεѕт иσт ωεll, ѕιи lιεтн αт тнε dσσя. Aиd υитσ тнεε ѕнαll вε нιѕ dεѕιяε, αиd тнσυ ѕнαlт яυlε σνεя нιм.. ❜
Fractured vision upon fractured glass, blurred and tearstricken fell upon faded smears of grime and blood that had yet to dry. Staggered breaths struggle to ease the sharp pangs of pain between the murky haze of memory that bled into futures. The pit of feeling that only came when stood betwixt the confronting unadulterated essence of knowledge unknown, yet a nostalgia that defied familiarity. The creeping sense of icen fear that prickled anaemic skin and inched itself ever closer to one's throat, already marked with the razored endeavour to pull away that which does not exist. Vain efforts to steady struggled breathing berated the vague aping silhouette that peered back with blotted canvas marred with condensated breath. The mere difficulty of discerning what stared back at her with shimmering imagery sent waves of surging nausea and migraine. For a moment, a familiar visage stared back, the echo of a voice she knew all too well. Black hair – Or was it grey? A set of deep crimson orbs that melted away to a pallid cerulean. Both of the veiled, darkened rings are sunken and lethargic.
❛ Wнαт εlѕε ιѕ ωσятнч ραчмεит тσ тнε dεвт σƒ вιятн? ❜
Were one to reach out as she did, the lithe fingers would brush upon its carmine streaks as skin parted for glass, running upon the seams of cracked edifice that flowed a distortion she begged her god to forget. Yet they did not shy away, merely pressing further into the crater left by its own knuckle, blood finding thin rivers that flowed down her arm, scarred skin to match. An attempt to push away that she could never accept. Yet what could one do when they reject the only identity left upon schizophrenic identity that sought to pull her beyond that door she did not remember? What did she truly want? The vain attempt to live and escape the inevitable? Or to destroy herself and accept the death she had run from for so long?
❛ Ðσεѕ нε киσω? Hσω мαич σƒ тнσѕε ѕcαяѕ ωεяε lιεѕ? ❜
The choked suppression of a whimper managed to escape before it made way for rage. A sudden cry of confused anger enticed fingers to curl into fist, taking no regard to the shards of glass that speckled her skin. The sudden force upon rotten concrete permeated violence that threatened to cave in the decrepit walls. The sound reverberated through her, not the bite of force returning. In her hand, the dust merely left a faint shower of sodden rock that she gripped with every ounce of remaining strength.
❛ Ðιd чσυ тнιик чσυ нαd вяσкεи тнσѕε cнαιиѕ, lιттlε ѕlανε? ❜
Had she not had the support of smeared rusted metal, she would have collapsed entirely. She stood hunched over, her fist still kissing the shattered brick that crumbled slowly. The mirror it once housed now a fine sheen of dust, and whatever was left of the row that surrounded it now mirrored the fragmented tapestry that coincided with her eggshell-thin reality. How long had it been? Had she the agency to answer, she mayhaps gleam an iota of light upon the mire of voices that overwhelmed with words that made her question everything. Where was she? Hell, who was she? Part of her knew that already, what stared down and up her through a shard of mirror which ebbed into the shade of red now diluted with tears. A gaunt face vold of sickly pallor and pastel cerulean gaze. For a moment, thoughts align to mend the painted vestige of preadolescence and the rhythm of time. Clarity.
❛ Ðιd чσυ тнιик чσυ cσυld нιdε? Sтσρ яυииιиg ƒяσм тнαт ωнιcн чσυ ƒεαя. ❜
The sudden surge of emotion swelled within, almost forcing up bile and black ichor that was so coughed. Hands firmly grip the metal basin to prevent the ensuing stagger, unable to pry gaze from trembling lips and rolling tears. The same hand that only a moment prior felt the razored kiss of glass reached up to touch upon face, shaky fingers move upwards, gently cutting upon skin as they moved up to her eye. At least, where it should be, alas, a mound of hardened skin that took the form of what appeared to be wooden, a dark grainy tumour that spread along the left side of her face, root-like tendrils inching down her neck and appearing to permeate from her shoulder, and arm, the skin around it was blackened, riven with necrosis that gave her the look of the dead. The sudden understanding of circumstance and lingering emotions turned sour, possessed by the realisation of what stared back up at her. A stabbing sense of fear and shame that tasted rotten upon parched lips and bloodied mouth.
❛ Wнч dσ чσυ ѕтιll dεƒч мε? Wнαт мυѕт чσυя нεαят вlεεd ƒσя? ❜
Once more, a scream bellowed in confusion, this time swiping away the glass that evoked that pang of self she wished so dearly to hold onto. At last, she fell to her knees, holding onto matted strands of ashen pink hair that flowed down to her waist. The violent fugue that had embraced her for so long was slipping yet held on with taloned vigour. What was her name? The words died on her lips, feeling as though her own throat decomposed around the sound. Yet the mere denial of lamenting madness echos with shiver so cold words could not describe.
❛ Wнαт εlѕε мυѕт I тαкε αѕ ρεиαиcε ƒσя чσυя ѕιи?. ❜
Another face stabbed at her memory: blonde. Warm. A man, one she knew in the deepest parts of her body, yet her mind relented. The onslaught of scintillating varieties of words and scenery continued, feeling as though they would bury her. This was not the first time it had happened, occasionally feeling the brush of familiarity entice her but never forced upon like this. Even now, the violence forced upon her wretched up bile and more memories, albeit ones far older. The smell of chemicals and blood, the loving touch of scalpel and needle. These memories, however, she actively forced back with visceral intensity.
❛ Yσʋ ɑɾe ƞσtɦiƞƍ. A bʋɾɗeƞ. A ɱeɾe ɱɑɾɾiσƞette ʄσɾ tɦe ʄeɑɾ ʮσʋ ɑɾe eƞslɑνeɗ tσ. ❜
She lay there, uncertain of whether she lost consciousness before or after the crushing weight had subsided. Lain in a pool of blood and tears mixed with the vile-smelling brackish water that dripped from cracked pipes. The soft pitter-patter of drops periodically hitting the tiled floor was almost enough to lull her. Yet the sound of foot upon water elicited the surge of energy she needed to pry herself away. She sat upwards, her movement causing another bout of vertigo and pain through rigid limbs, yet she forced her gaze before her. Were she not so pale, one may notice whatever was left of the colour drain from her face, now contorted with fear as her gaze inched slowly upwards along the eidolon of her deepest fears manifest, now stood before her.
❛ Tιмε dσεѕ иσт εqυαтε αтσиεмεит. Σνεи dεαтн dσεѕ иσт ωαит чσυ.❜
A mirror image, yet one not so beaten but just as jaded. A cruel smile and a set of venomous eyes that leered down at her as she cowered. She hadn’t the privilege of time to mutter a single word before she was met with a knee that sent her flying into the wall adjacent to her. She slumped, almost unable to move from the pain and the dread she felt. Why? What the fuck was going on? She did not know this woman, yet many of the scars that covered her ached with familiarity and steeped her in an all-consuming panic. Her vision stirred, barely able to make out the movement as the figure drew closer to her. The fickle blend of fear and rationale jolted the harsh adrenaline that promised fruitless attempts to fight back the silhouette that made no issue of patience. Futile, she lunged forward with lashing arms that had her fall flat onto the cold ground. Had she the strength to pull herself back up, she would have.
❝ Mo- ❞
Bile rose to reject her voice as a violent pull of hair yanked her head up to face her opposor, once more feeling the hard consequence of denied submission. Even now, defenceless as she was, little care of baring excess as instinct and not a choice to break the spirit and the bone. Unable to even feel the brief respite of stagger, the hand held her in place as knee kissed upon her. Barely able to take in laboured breath before a fist followed to slam into her stomach, vomiting out more bile and stray root. Now released from grip she staggered back and turned face the wall behind her, only to be viciously slammed into it before being pulled back to face her abuser. Hands raise upwards to fend off the imposing apparition. A familiar feeling of hand gripped tightly around her throat forced her to meet their gaze, fending off the need to succumb, a hand cupped upon her face to snuff out breath. The mere depth of venal animosity denied the hopes of illusion, an awareness that bitterly bound her to the inevitable.
❛ Pαтнεтιc, ωσятнlεѕѕ cнιld. Wнч мυѕт чσυ яεjεcт мч lσνε? ❜
The fleeting gnaw of molten agony seared into her. Overwhelming, the mixture of terror and euphoria that permeated her being, a temptation of her end she so dearly begged for. Was this itself a memory of the reality she was now trapped in? She couldn’t discern as they bled so close together to be indistinguishable from one another. Serpentine digits dig into flesh, threatening the weight to crush yet relenting the fleeting awe of death. The flash of imagery she so desperately sought embraced her. Perhaps this, too, was the crescendo of justice at the end of the tunnel, the path of isolation and decomposition. To be enslaved by one's fear is a pathetic existence; one who cannot face it can never find peace. Yet to defy the maws of fate promises dismay and the loss of all that one holds dear. Tears ran like blood down stained cheeks. Not from fear but acceptance. This was the path of no return.
❛ Yεѕ, lεт ιт cσиѕυмε чσυ. Gινε ιи. ❜
Serene was the siren song that called to her, the result of a life full of regrets and mired with the stain of hope that she believed would bring her peace. But even so, the countless nights of fitful sleep and nightmares only served to remind her of the facade she carved into her reason. What a sick joke of mercy to toy with her, a game to which she dutifully danced. She knew the consequences of recourse; she only wished she wasn’t such a coward to admit it, let alone speak of it. How much did they suffer from her obsession? The gentle calm she slipped into was most welcome, yet the more she tried the more the pounding echoes of voices familiar sung to her.
❛ Hσρε cαииσт ѕεdαтε тнε яσт. ❜
Almost ever so close. But no – The pangs of pride and arrogance she thought she had been rid of in her youth boiled to the surface, a sanguine pulse of repressed emotion to shatter the thin veil of velvet quietus and exorcise the obscene. It was just a dream, the ghost of her youth that mimicked the violence etched deep into her soul. The pressure released; she fell to her knees once more to take in deep breaths despite the onset of coughing. She banished the fear yet held onto those precious golden threads, the guilt of a year lost. Stuck deciding whether to laugh or cry, she blundered until she mustered the strength to stand. The feeling of sunlight creeping upon her skin was a welcomed relief, yet she had not the time to relax. A look of determination, an eye full of passion refound.
❝ Lyon... ❞
