(5-3-09)
"You’re not real!” I scream.
I’ve locked myself in the bathroom. It’s a half bath equipped with shower inside. I’m perched on the lip of the stall. I’ve shattered the mirror and shards of glass blanket the floor around me. The door is dead-bolted and he can’t see in. I can hear him panicking on the outside. His breathing has become shallow and erratic. His fists beat against the door.
“Open the door, DAMN IT! This isn’t a game. Let me in.” The frantic trembling voice echoes through the door.
“You can’t come in, because you aren’t real. Same reason you can’t stop me. You aren’t real. I made you up! You’re only in my head. I’m insane. This has to stop now. I need to end this.” I’m convinced that he’s not really there outside the door and just a mere phantom in my thoughts gone array. A dark shadow trapped in my psyche come to seek revenge. The knife in my right hand slices another piece of flesh off of what remains of my left arm. I’ve already carved out part of my right arm nearly to the bone. Merely slitting my wrists wasn’t enough. See, I can’t survive this. My fate must be sealed. I reach down and grab a piece of glass amidst the sea. It finds its way up to my mouth. I open and swallow.
“STOP THIS! Unlock the door.” He’s yelling at me and now kicking and trying to break down the door.
Another piece of glass goes down the hatch. This one hurts going down. Slice another piece of arm followed by part of leg. “STOP ME! You aren’t real. Imaginary people can’t save real people. That’s why you can’t get in. It’s why you can’t get help. You are a figment of my twisted imagination. I’m arguing with myself. Stop fighting me. It will all be over soon.”
“DAMN YOU! I can’t stop you because I can’t get in. And I can’t call for help. You’ve cut the phones line, smashed the computers, and I’m pretty sure that burning mess in microwave is what’s left of the cell phones.” There is a pause and I can hear him breathing again. A desperate fool still attempting to calm me with this cool rational logic, despite the frenzy and exasperation I can hear in his voice. “I can’t leave you alone, not like this… not even to get help. Look, some people are coming over soon. They will find us. Please, stop hurting yourself and just let me in.” Nothing. Pause. I’m silent. He begins yelling and banging through the door at me again. “You’ve lost your mind! OPEN THE DOOR!”
More glass. More slicing. “Open it yourself! You aren’t REAL!” I garble my words as blood is now coming out of my mouth as I speak. There’s too much blood. The door begins to shake as he’s pulling at the handle, screaming in frustration, his body hitting against the door with every ounce of strength. It’s moving but not budging. There are a thousand versions of me watching him try to get in. These tiny faces spilled across the tile floor amid the river of blood draining from my criss-crossed arms and legs, which now resemble a carved side of beef. My eyes are streaming black from mascara mixed with tears and more blood spills out my mouth down my chin. “I made you up to pacify my loneliness. I’m crazy and completely alone. You aren’t real and were never here!” I look down at a mini version of me. I’m a cannibal now as I raise the tiny girl to my mouth and swallow. The blood finally makes it easy to go down. It’s getting darker for me now. My vision is fading. My strength has nearly left me. This will all leave my mind soon enough.
Slice. Swallow. I don’t know how many pieces of mirror I’ve eaten, but I’m fading quickly. It has been quiet for far too long now. I’d assumed he’d given up and quite possibly died with part of my fading mind. I should have known better. A loud noise and something metallic pierces the door. An axe. A madman who’s lost his temper wields this axe and is cutting through the door. Before I know it, he stands before me. I’m a bloody mess. I’m far too weak to struggle. I can’t even voice my revulsion as the glass has robbed me of speech. I sob and try to emotionally refuse. He picks me up and cradles me as I drift off into darkness. There are no more words between us. But there isn’t silence. Another man’s voice enters… and it’s unclear what’s been said. SILENCE.
DEATH?
Blurry. Groggy. I’m alive. Soft white light surrounds as my vision slowly focuses. I’m restrained to a bed. Both my hands and feet are strapped down. The room from what I can make out is padded. It’s very white here including me. My wounds are bandaged. They put me away. I was crazy. But I can finally be at peace and rest without the constant torment of my mind. I take a deep breath and sigh. Except… He’s still here… sitting next to me… waiting for me to wake. “Oh my!” are my thoughts. I don’t know a true reality anymore. I whimper and begin to sob.
“You gave us quite a scare the other day,” he speaks quietly and gently strokes my hair. “They say you’ll recover fine, but I think it’s best if I keep an eye on you anyway.”
Am I mad?
He’ll never leave my side.
EEEE-EEH? Having one of those days where I don't want to give this story up but something in the back of my mind says TODAY is the DAY! So here goes. It was written back in April. An idea popped into my head and darkness resulted! This was complete crazy to write. The fun? That lay in the part of letting myself go. I mentally came unglued for this one, and to this day I doubt I did it justice. Anyhow the idea of this story was always in good humor that hopefully someone else gets, but nonetheless... Enjoy? kisses. m.
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