HFTOH - Into the Flesh

Reads: 130  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
The thing in the mirror was a disgusting sight, I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.

Submitted: February 04, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 04, 2017

A A A

A A A


Revolting.

Vile.

Unloved.

Those and many other negative words danced through my head, like a mantra on constant repeat.

My eyes remain locked onto the mirror, taking in every disgusting detail of the thing in front of me.

Hatred and disdain was evident in my dull, sunken eyes, devoid of any positive spark.

Any twinkle that shows a soul lives inside this broken vessel isn’t evident.

Ugly.

My skin was dreary, lifeless and pale, littered with spots that I couldn’t seem to get rid of.

My cheeks were too puffy and made my already dark eyes sink deeper into my skull.

My dreary hair hung limply around my face, flat and lifeless.

The shaking in my limbs is uncontrollable as I stare at the hideous portrait in front of me.

All I could currently see in the reflection was from my overly wide shoulders and above, but I knew if I looked down I’d feel even more hatred.

My flabby waist and hips.

My flat and unappealing chest.

My stumpy legs.

I hate it all.

The mere sight of my body made my skin crawl unpleasantly, filling me to the brim with self loathing of the flesh I was forced to inhabit.

The body that would never be accepted by today’s standards of beauty, no matter how hard I tried to make it so with make up and fad diets.

“I hate you,” I growl at the mirror.

The knuckles of my left hand go white as I grip the hilt of the knife tighter, the metal making an echoing clattering noise against the porcelain of the sink as my shaking gets worse.

“I hate the very skin I was cursed to live with.”

My voice is hoarse with unshed emotions, sore from holding back tears that had been years in the making.

For so long  I had wanted to do this, but living under a roof with my family had prohibited me. It was partly due to the selflessness of them not finding me in such a state, but also partly due to the selfishness of not wanting to be caught.

But now there were no limitations.

Only I was holding me back.

My eyes flicker to the glinting knife very briefly before meeting with my reflection again, a cruel smirk playing on thin, barely there lips.

“And as far as I can see it,” I speak to the air, a cold and emotionless laugh filling the space around me.

I lift the knife up and lean a little closer to the mirror, tilting my head to an angle that was suitable and practical.

I pinch the skin of my cheek between my forefinger and thumb, pulling it out a little to make a perfect starting target.

The blade of the sharpened knife nicks my skin at barely a touch, causing a long, red line to slowly split across the putrid skin and weep trickles of blood down my face.

The pain caused me to gasp and hiss through my gritted teeth, but I forced myself to hold the blade where it was, to press harder.

“You can’t hate the flesh you’re in, if there’s none left to despise.”


© Copyright 2018 Hell R. All rights reserved.