Thunderstorm

4 0 0
                                    

It flashes like lightning through your temples, followed by the overwhelming roar of thunder in your head. It's too bright. Your nauseous. Trying so hard to hide the pain. And with the pain, there are always the voices.
Doubting.
Baiting.
Demanding.
Smashing your head against the wall repeatedly is all you can do to cope and dim the annoying pests that they are; making them background noise. You're losing control. They're taking all your power. Forcing you to bow down and break your back for the word of their will. Immobilized and dreading the slow bragging of the voices conquering your mind, you know it's over. And sadly, your pride keeps you fighting, your hands clutching your head as your eyes squint shut and your breathing becomes laboured.  You know you've completely lost when the pain suddenly stops. When all you hear is the tearing of your soul being ripped from your body. When this terrifying sensation of being seared causes you to bolt up in bed.

Cold, shivering and panting you attempt to calm yourself. It was just a nightmare. But you know that's not true when the voices as sweet as honey slowly flow into your ears and cloud your mind with their deliciously deceiving songs. The beginning roar of thunder dimly racking through the back of your head.

Forever FreeWhere stories live. Discover now