The lovers of chaos

Eleven.

Song of this chapter :

Vacation -  Telephone
-
Lilith's Manor, Somewhere, 1970

The new year had passed, bringing with it all the festivities and marking the beginning of a renewal.

The new year also marks the beginning of resolutions that we make and quickly abandon the following week as if nothing had really changed. Nothing really changes. We just see things from a different point of view than before. Questions about what has become of our lives usually follow.

The fear of death. Time passing and destroying in its path any hope of a brighter future. I'm not afraid of death, I think. I don't have the fear of seeing myself grow old and fall apart like most people. Wrinkles or white hair won't scare me.

I'm afraid of abandonment. From this feeling that makes you sick and anxious, that eats you inside like a worm. I'm afraid that people will get tired of me and everything they find adorable or interesting about me. The fear of never being enough.

There is no cure for this fear. Even the love of my beloved cannot soothe my anguish.

-

I woke up with a start, my breath short and painful with each gust of inspiration, my eyes wide as if death had appeared in a dream. Fine tears were rolling down my cheeks. My heart was pounding in my chest and these rapid beats only confused me more.

I scrambled out of bed when I was pretty sure my panic attack was under control. Sleep will not return to me after this, I was convinced of that.

My hair was tangled like a bird's nest. My feeble efforts to tame them in a bun didn't work. They were sticky with sweat against my body and strands were sticking out of the hairstyle. I didn't make any effort to get dressed either, I was aware that walking around the manor in my undress was going to make me sick, but I didn't care.