I sleep, I stare, I distract myself. I waste away.
My life is in ruins. I thought that I had hit rock bottom before.
I was wrong.
I thought monsters left a stain on your soul.
They rip chunks out of it, and that emptiness is a constant pain that never heals, and never can be put aside.
Imagine your life, if you had a giant shark bite on your side, and be expected to move on.
Twenty-Six came by again. She's been tending to me. She informs me that she's not Twenty-Six, but Twenty-Seven. Her quaint accent has changed. I consider the idea that she's been modified twenty seven times by this thing.
And I was fucking zero
Twenty-Seven tells me that she's ready to see me again.
I screamed at her to either let me go or to kill me. That I was still human enough to feel pain and I couldn't take any more of this helplessness.
She smiled wanly.
I'm not afraid to admit that death is a better alternative now. I used to be all 'never give up', because I felt that we could fight our monsters until the end.
Now? I just feel pain, and I need it to stop.
I took the last of these antidepressants. Someone told me once that twelve was a good amount for confronting horror.
I can't remember her name.
I can't remember anyone else's names.
Its all just darkness in this void.
Was I ever really anywhere but here?
