It will all go dark.
I woke up to the sun screaming through the shades, rubbing my eyes while slowly dragging myself out of bed. I sat up slowly, wiping my forehead and neck, both damp with sweat. I checked the perimeter of the room, but my dream was already fading. I kicked the blankets off and stopped. If it was August, I wouldn't have thought twice about it, but it wasn't. It was late October and the heat this early was uncanny. I shook it off and stumbled to the shower, hoping I was just overheated.
The first drop hit myskin. I remember what had happened now, it all seemed clear. The warm droplets formed steam as I stood there without moving at all, the voices banging in my head. They said the same thing, over and over again, how much clearer could it be? My skin was burning from the mellow droplets morphing into sharp little blades of fire. Yes. Thinking back now, I remember what they said. It was clear.
Without a second thought, I dashed down the spiral staircase; the rusty rails screamed in protest every time my hand slid down them. Outside, the humid reality of the city was waiting for me.Watery sunlight trailed down from the mass of black clouds covering the sun. I could feel the rain trickling down from the sky, making every surface appear as if it were beaded with sweat. The damp mist that swirled around my feet clung to my bare ankles, while the water gushing out of every crevice completely smothered the ground, coating it like ice.
The heat made my skin crawl.
Finally, I could make out the smooth silhouette of the building that loomed in the distance; it was the only thing that had remained untouched by the hatred of the city. It was the one thing that always remained the same. The roof caved in slightly, allowing water to flood down the gutters and spill out over the sides of the building, showering me with more water.
Grabbing the syringe and laying on the table, I made sure my notepad and pen were on my chest. I grabbed a table cloth and stuck it in my mouth. I jammed the syringe into my neck, inserting the fluids into the Vena Cava. I pulled it out. My neck went stiff as the solution ran up my Artery, and behind my skull. My ears went numb, my eyes watered, and I was clutching onto my shorts so tightly that my knuckles had turned white. Relaxing, I traced the dark blue squares blazing out from amongstthe black material with my finger, which I recognised without having to look.
The usual blackness was tempting me with torture and pain, reaching out and teasing me in different places. Straining and pulling he got tired of his games- which he does quickly, pain likes to hear your cries of agony; it’s his drug. But I have enough will power to not give him that satisfaction.
A new emotion exploded in my stomach- terror. I tensed up, the standard conscious feeling of butterflies, felt like they had mutated into bats and a colony had just burst through my gut, spilling Hydrochloric Acid on every cell in my body.
I tried looking up at my notepad, checking it was still there, balanced and waiting patiently. And as I moved my head, the room span as if I were stuffed inside a washing machine, and like the water was slowly filling my veins, with immense power as it gradually cracked open my ribs as my lungs overflow with water. I felt my body split into one million pieces, and the last thing I remember hearing, is the soft thud of the notepad, onto the wooden floor.
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