A.B.Y.S.S. Asylum

Chapter 3

It is said that we have choices, a path we can choose and it is all in our hands. It is said that destiny is a farce created by our skeptical ever-changing minds. But looking over the horizon and realising that you are a minuscule minority, reprioritizes your life. Suddenly everything is suffocating you and you have nowhere to run, to hide, to escape. And with sundown, your choice is taken out of your hands and you wonder where you went wrong...

Pitter! Patter!

She can run but they will find her! There is nothing left for back at home but she feels so hollow. There is a piece of her is missing! A gaping void in the place where her heart should be and she doesn't know how to fill it. Everyday, she dies a little, waiting for somebody to recognise her. Can't they see that her smiles are forced now? Can't they see the sags under her eyes? Can't they see a thin frame on the borderline of returning to rehabilitation...

Pitter! Patter!

She can't do this anymore. She can't pretend that she is not a magnet of dark thoughts and depressing words. She can't remember the last time she was genuinely happy. She losing all her sense of reason. The lines are blurring for her. She is prancing about without a voice in the midst of numerous others. She is drowning myself. She is hanging by a thin thread thats ready to snap!

Pitter! Patter!

She is sorry! She is trying but it is so hard. She doesn't know where she is going. She needs him, she craves him like a deep breath of Oxygen. She doesn't want you to come near. Watch from afar. She is a plague rat spreading filth on everything she touches and destroying the things she loves. 

Pitter! Patter!

"Julia, please come out of bed. It is such a nice day outside."

She can't remember a time the cold feeling wasn't there. An all consuming chill, originating her from deep within, encasing her sweet, young beating heart into a cold,  icy case!

Pitter! Patter!

It felt as though her skin should be frosted over, breath visible in white puffs in front of her face, ice on the outside to match her ice on the inside. The endless numbness. The endless lies! It never seems to stop. She can remember it like yesterday but she can't even remember their faces!

Pitter! Patter!

She doesn't remember doing it, but she sits with her forehead against the glass of her window, watching the torrential downpour outside, the tumultuous clouds rumbling their dissent as flashes of brightness lit them from their dark to dull grey.  A myriad mix of ultimate abysmal colours of the churning oceans. 

Pitter! Patter!

She should feel cold, all she's wearing is a thin eggshell-white sweater, hanging loosely off of her frame and the blue jeans her father made her wear for her 'interview', but it's nothing (just numb, numb, numb). Her mind is blank. A state of complete of fatigue and failure! 

Pitter! Patter!

The thunder is close; she can feel the floor beneath her shake, and she's blinded by the light and deafened by the crashing, but what's a little more sensory deprivation in a lifetime of numbness, honestly? A luxurious game of sorts, she supposes! Playing with emotions and the inhuman cruelty it metes out!

Pitter! Patter!

She twisted the band on her wrist, one she doesn't need to look at to accurately describe; silver, twisted with gold, faded with age and use, emblazoned with the words, 'My Dearest Julie, Stars Shine For You', touching words no doubt, but the feelings of love she felt were all washed away with the numbness. Would her mother still say that now? Where was she when she needed her the most?! Lost? She highly doubts it.

Pitter! Patter!

She shivered without truly feeling the cold air on her skin (false, false... she felt it like she felt the fingers pulling and tearing clothing and groping as cruel laughs flood her ears and there's agony, but he, they, those monsters, didn't stop, and the laughter reverberated beneath her skin till she twisted and tore at her ears, but they're there, reaching, reaching...) 

Boom!

A loud burst of thunder distracted her from the thoughts plaguing her mind (memories of hands colder than ice touching her as obscene voices join a fray and jeer... No, no no)

Boom!

A series of successively repulsive memories. A never-ending cycle of pain and abuse. She collapsed against the window, shaking with sobs and screams, swallowed away so no one hears her again, just like last time, just like when they held her down, smothered her mouth, till her shrieks were swept into a void, till she was broken on the ground, till....

Boom!

Her eyes were streaming, she could barely see anything, but her feet did not fail her, they took her to where she needed. A path she memorised long ago. An art she had mastered with efficiency, but would it make her mother proud?

Boom!

She was shaking like a leaf, but she persisted, searching the wardrobe till her fingers (cold, numb fingers) closed around the delicate edges of her desire object. 

Boom!

The razor caught the lightning, bright like the sun for a moment, before it descended its familiar path down her arms.

Boom!

Soon it will be over! Soon she will have her release. They can't touch her here! Her head arched with the pain, weeping from her eyes even as her arms wept.  

Pitter! Patter!

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