Despair Is Such a Strong Feeling to Throw Around...

She paced around the room. Erratically. Non-stopping. The door was shut, the blinds were down, her eyes were closed. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. Unevenly. Steadily. The darkness was filled with nothing but her feet shuffling stiffly on the floor and the broken-up sobs escaping her lungs. But even in the restless silent, she could not stand still alongside the voices in her mind, the demons in her heart.
She paced around the room. Fighting against the haziness of tears, she looked for her phone, somewhere on the bed where she had scattered the contents of her purse two nights ago. No missed calls, no unread messages… She sucked in rapidly a deep, short breath, almost choking with spit, realizing he had never intended to call back. Her head bounced back and forth battling the urge to go over it once more. The argument, the revelations, the confessions, the blaming, the guilt, the anger, the regret, the pain, the helplessness… all the things they had thrown at her, all the sharp words that tore her being like deathly knives. She had run away from it, a murderer escaping the scene of the crime. She had picked up her phone, dialing someone as a cry for help. No one had answered. Another call, no answer. A few texts, some IM messages… No response. She had started speeding her pace almost running home, when finally the inbox signaled a new text. The small beep had made her heart tight like an answered prayer, a newly lit candle in the gloom. «Look, honey, they already talked to me. Not this again… No one can put up with this anymore. Just snap out of it, everyone feels like that sometimes and no one acts like you. I thought you wanted to get better! Go home and sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.» Her eyes had widened in shock at first, but soon they had just gone cold, streaming a fresh bout of tears silently. She then felt silly, how could she call someone a best friend when that was all they had to say? She shrugged it off, answering her own question: it’s hard not to be my best friend when he’s the only one I have… or had. Dismissing that incisive feeling, the incident started replaying itself in her memory, yet again. It seemed as if the more she struggled against her thoughts, the more they cut her open from the inside, so she took another pill. Maybe then she wouldn’t think of it anymore…
She paced around the room. Unaware of anything but the void growing inside of her, she kicked the empty bottles on the floor, remainders of the failed effort to poison out the incessant whispering in her head. Her body shook viciously, almost in a child’s attempt to recreate the gentle, comforting cradling of a mother. But there was no one there to look out for her, no one to hold her, no one to soothe her mind… So the voices wandered aimlessly, becoming stronger. Louder. Clearer. As the background noise morphed into more distinct, comprehensible words, her sobs grew deeper, disproportional and her tears poured more intensely down her cheeks. She sat down on the unmade bed, clenching her throbbing skull between her trembling hands. The alcohol and excessive crying had left her a massive pain, barely able to shut out the guilty memories… The voices began to build cohesive sentences and she unsuccessfully looked for one more bottle, one more pill. She rubbed her face with the back of her arm, attempting to steady herself, but something warm with a pungent smell started seeping down her cheek and nose… Using her hand to wipe the strange fluid, she recognized it as blood. Looking at her arm, she realized the awkwardly symmetrical cuts in her right arm still heedlessly dribbled crimson liquid, as if they were just freshly slashed open. She groaned out in pain, in distress. «This is all on you, as usual.» The accusing tone of the imaginary jury in her head, chanted in unison. »Why don’t you just realize you’re no good once and for all? It’s not like it would be a terrible loss for the world if you just disappeared…» The ceaseless voices lulled in the back of her brain, slowly merging into fewer distinguishable entities. «It’s not like you’re not to blame. Don’t try to pretend you’re a victim here; you know their reasons… You know they were right to abandon you like they did. You are nothing to them. You are nothing at all.» She pushed her body violently against the bed, screaming out, striving to breathe through the phlegm and saliva submersing her airways. “STOP! Oh God, please stop…”, she spoke into the obscurity of the room, praying some higher power would listen to her. As the sounds coalesced into one singular, very particular and unique speech, multiple shots of icy fear ripped through her, freezing her entire being…
«Get the fuck up.» Her usually calm and bubbly voice sounded cruel, enraged as it rang across in her own mind.« Don’t treat me like I never accused you. This has been going on before.»
“Shut up…” She whispered helplessly into the silence, as her tears started to dry out in her face due to lack of hydration. “Just shut up and leave me alone… I can’t take it anymore.”
«God, you’re crazier than I thought…» Her voice mocked her with anger resounding fervently. «I can’t leave you alone, I AM you! Can’t you see it?... Not even you can stand to be with yourself. You’re a pathetic excuse for a person… if that’s even what you are.»
“What do you want from me…?” She asked between broken gasps, surrendering herself to the self-loathing that invaded her every inch, her every bone. “Tell me what to do to make it stop… I just want it to end…”
The purrs of a sadistic laughter echoed the blackest pits of her suddenly silent mind. «You think you can make it stop? You think it will just fade away? Ha ha ha… You are more foolish than I’d imagine anyone could possibly be. THIS WILL NEVER END! It will never go away! It will never cease to exist in you! It will never stop eating you up from the inside! Even when you’re nothing but an empty shell of despair and pain and sorrow and regret, it will still be the only thing inside your head! It will NEVER leave you alone!»
Those words plunged into her and she let out an excruciating shriek as the fortune dictated by her own subconscious finally made its way to her awareness. The crying became an arrhythmic compass of painful moans and sharp, shallow intakes of air. Streaks of sweat crawled down her face mixing with her tears; her vision turned clouded with her brain spinning dizzily; her hands quivered aggressively while she kept trying to hold on to her contracting stomach; her arms and legs became engulfed in a paralyzing numbness; her heart sped up, beating against her ribcage; the pain in her core migrated to her chest, her shoulders, her neck… Suddenly she wasn’t able to breathe, as if something was smothering her. She grabbed her throat trying to fight off the invisible assailant that choked her, promising her soon, yet painful demise. Her feet propelled her up nearly without her consent, making her crashing infuriatingly on the floor, but promptly bringing her to a stand again. Without being capable of using the full extent of her cognitive abilities, she managed to open the door and stumble through the unlit small hallway that led to the bathroom.
As soon as she turned on the sickeningly bluish light, she halted abruptly in front of the looking glass. Even if fully sentient that shiny, crystal cut-out in front of her was indeed a mirror, she drew in a long, frightened lungful of air at the grotesque, unnamed vulture that stood before her.
«Now you can finally experience firsthand what everyone else sees…» The voice proclaimed vaguely, shrouded out by the overwhelming fear in her soul and the ever-growing disgust in her gut.
She approached the reflecting surface with extreme caution and touched the glass and then her face, in utter disbelief… She could identify merely her own oily, disheveled short black hair framing the distorted figure that stared at her. The skin of it was a buttery pastel tone still covered with small flakes of dried out blood and deep black circles incasing a pair of lifeless, dull eyes. She gently shifted her head, testing if the unrecognizable impostor copied her motions… However, as though the movement had triggered the somber shape to transfigure, the orbs fixated on her sunk into the skull that elongated into a runny, comatose gray. She panted being flooded with stupefying terror, but the face just kept altering with in an uninterrupted, shaky undulation, jerking unpredictably, never really resting in one form. The body trapped in the reflection started to bloat, rotting like a corpse floating in the river and a sticky, maroon-colored discharge made its way out of the hollow physique through its unnatural openings… She could do nothing but gaze at the unfolding scene depicted before her, unconsciously holding her breath and gently weeping until the fear in her slowly boiled, leaving revulsion and hatred behind.
«THIS IS WHAT YOU REALLY ARE!» Bellowed the voice with growing, painful rage. «A dead, decaying soul in a dead, decaying world. You really think you can escape reality?! You will never get rid of me! You will never be undamaged again!»
“There’s nothing wrong with me, there’s nothing wrong with me…” She mumbled endlessly like a sedative lullaby, covering her eyes with her unsteady hands.
«This is you. This is your life. This is your fate.» The voice incited on, willing to destroy every last shred of faith in her. «There is nowhere you can run or hide. You can’t escape me. You can’t escape the darkness within you!» It droned on, perforating her soul with helplessness and desolation. «You will never wake up from this nightmare! This is all that you’ll have left. Forever…»
At that moment, something in the deepest corner of her soul, a place where no light nor love nor hope had ever pierced through finally gave in and whatever was encaging her was finally lifted. Much to her own surprise, both of her body, her mind and the tormenting voice, she lunged her right arm forward, smashing the mirror and the deceiving manifestation of her own vile and twisted delusions. Doing so, the whiplash momentum hurled her back against the wall behind her, causing her to cry out in pain and complete, pure agony. By this point, the sickness she carried within relinquished her of any sort of self-control.
“I’ve been locked up inside for so long, trapped in this misery and riddled with despair…” Her mouth worded at a command that wasn’t her own, creating a distorted, inhumanly sound. “I have never known of happiness or love. I have been withheld from satisfaction and joy all my life. I have been deprived from peace and freedom infinitely…” She heaved in small, animalistic growls, supporting her weight on her bleeding hand that now stained the bathroom floor in dark red… “I have been imprisoned forever without the chance to be set free. My soul yearns for absolution. HOW MUCH LONGER WILL I BE DENIED?!”
Far in the distance, her mind could only faintly register the sounds of someone yelling and knocking on the door, probably brought on by the noise she was making, but then again, she couldn’t acknowledge their presence… As the embodied insanity threatened to overcome her, an almost undetectable flash of light filled her eyes with a feeble, barely-there sliver of hope. With the very last of her strength and determination, she got up with surgical precision and ran to the small closet by the living room, crashing against its door and sending little speckles of blood everywhere. With her body vibrating with adrenaline and anticipation, she reached for a little wooden box in the back. It was covered in dust, nearly forgotten since her mother had left it to her in her will. As she opened it, a metallic glaze met her eyes as if answering her unasked question. She grabbed it before she could even become aware of what that cold, hard object was and pressed it against her temple. Right before she pressed the trigger and the roaring sound expanded across the air, something new inside of her emerged… a feeling she had never felt before. Peace of mind. She smiled with restfulness knowing she finally won her eternal fight and was free at last…
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It’s a night like any other, apart from the sirens from police cars and ambulance echoing in the streets. The dreadful memory of a gunshot still lingers in the minds of the people that have woken up to it in that suburban building. Some poor woman is in shock in the staircase being comforted by her dedicated neighbors who were also incredibly disturbed by the horror show they have just witnessed. As someone broke down the door, they saw the pale blood-covered corpse of a small 20-something year-old girl that now lies coldly on the floor of her entry hall. Some ran away from what is portrayed there, unable to fight the urge to hurl the meager contents of their night-fasted stomachs. Only a few individuals that live in that same floor are capable of guessing her identity simply by knowing who lived in that apartment, for her skull is far too disintegrated to remain recognizable and no one actually knew her enough to be able to do so. People barely speak louder than a whisper, being weighted on by the crushing silence of death dwelling in the ambient and waiting for the arrival of the authorities and possibly, some guidance.
Even though some are being assaulted by questions of meaning and purpose after experiencing such an apparent untimely and wrongful death, the dawn begins to illuminate the city bringing with it another morning. People wake up, have breakfast with their loved ones, get stuck in traffic and arrive to the jobs they hate; kids go to school, texting their friends in class; mothers take their infants out for a stroll in the park where old-time friends meet every afternoon. And after the matters are settled, her body is buried and her belongings divided, mankind will carry on unknowingly of another casualty in this ever-living world…