ALONE | where our hearts sink into the earth.
― I don't want to be alone anymore.
The world had not been kind to us, the boy and the girl, and the souls within.
Made to suffer, minds that were created for this world, they do not sink; they swim.
but...
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TESS
I did not remember a time before the world had died. Perhaps it had been erased, what little life I once known, gone without an error in my mind. I didn't recall the girl I knew before, the family I had loved; it all slipped away in the wind. With the sights I held, I could not see a life worth living in the coming days; I only knew of the misery I had been thrown into with little say.
In a world deprived of a simple heartbeat, I found myself in a case of wishing my own no longer thumped against my chest. It had come to that, because of the guilt that shredded my lungs into gravel patches, because of the toxicity that made each breath taste bitter against my gums. Land desperate for life was not what I wished to walk along in my time of dying. When there were words worth speaking, nothing left to preach, no more room left in hell, the only thing the world had spared was the unwilling fight for survival.
All of the innocence that had once caressed my skin was burned away with the flame of the devil's finger, boiled down into the cremation of blood, gunpowder, and rusted blades; I could still find the flavor at the back of my throat if I tried. I whispered to see myself once again, begged to revisit the child I once was, but the girl never found her way back to me. A shake invaded my hands, cold digits that a weapon fell within so easily with each day that passed. You would have never known I was once human.
What I was made up of now had been sculpted together by violence, a place where nightmares were birthed; I had become its spawn. Crafted by the devil's hands, by the dead who walked, the world found ways to strip down my desire to live. First, at my spine, carving my flesh away, and then at the skin of my lips, peeled back until there was no way of telling a smile once lived there. It was not a home I wanted to exist in any longer, a lifetime better left forgotten, a place that had taken everything from me.
It was only supposed to be imaginary, a fiction that fed itself in the dark parts of horror stories, teasing the fears of young children; I used to be one of those children. God and I no longer saw eye to eye, perhaps that was why the horror stories had come true, why they had pinched the flame that once held my light. I hadn't seen that flame in months, knew it would be centuries until it returned. Ask and I cannot tell, for I am no longer in this head of mine. I will suffer through it.
The silence was what killed all of us slowly, an invisible death I put onto myself. The forgetfulness of my voice, the clog in the middle of my throat; after all, what was left to say? When there was not a soul to speak to, it was hard to taste your voice. I couldn't even seem to force a prayer for sins that could not be forgiven.
Let me ramble, let my ears bleed, I won't even blink an eye. I was tired of the days where I pretended it wasn't me, but my brother and mother, and father listening in. It had been so long since I've heard their voices, they were fading, too. One day, I knew I would age too many years and forget their faces, too. There weren't enough passages left to pray over to bring them back to me. To have a soul to tell stories to, a heart to confess all my fears to, it was far too much to ask for in the days that came over me.
