Cold etches across tender flesh. Shivers ripple, feeling like vertigo and euphoria meeting and swirling, promising future bliss. A promise echoes through a one-track mind, this is the last time… but every time’s the last time. Every high is the last one needed to be happy, every low drags back a broken person who swears that this is the last time, a cycle that will never be broken. It’s a need. There is no life beyond this.
The depths of the water still and calm, beautiful in deception. Anything said in this place is merely an echo, unheard by the world out side. Willows weep, dipping the long strands of their beautiful hair into the lake. The glass like water barely feels their movement, rippling gently. It’s twilight. The water is as midnight should be, a constant blue with strands of black threatening to consume anyone who looks too long. Tall grass caresses bare feet, and the warmth of day rises into the coming night. Nothing could ever go wrong here. The stars smile down, as Narcissist did, enthralled by the beauty of their reflections, they are the only light, a flickering hope for tomorrow. The lake is small, hidden from a ruthless world outside in the depths of nowhere.
Grey stones stand by the shore, offering visitors a place to sit and admire intangible beauty. Smooth and inviting they call out to the person who has entered their world.
Beneath the surface is only blackness, and something slides hidden by nothingness. It waits and stalks, never rising for others to see. A personal demon. Consuming every thought.
A soft breeze ripples through the air. The hand of the southern wind caresses a warm cheek. The grass dances under its touch cheerfully optimistic, tickling and embracing the bare feet that stand within it. The southern wind reassures, but just as any wind, it is fickle, gone as swiftly as it came. Leaving in its wake an odd emptiness.
Everything is still once more and the demon beckons. It hates the person that stares into the mirror like surface of its home. Hates everything about them, they are worthless. A human who will never amount to anything, who will always be flawed, disgusting in appearance and within, unable to please those it works so hard for.
He snickers. He watches as others enter the world fading into existence, trying to coax the human to come home with them, to just come back to the real world or at least to open up to them. The human is too enthralled with this place to acknowledge the other’s pleas. At times the person wants to be understood by someone, for though the world is beautiful, the person is alone, always alone. But as soon as they know the person the mystery is gone, and they realise that the person needs a lot. They do not love the person but see it as a challenge, and once the challenge is gone…
The others are frightened of this place, and of the one human. The demon knows he owns the person, for he is the only thing constant in their life.
Cold etches across warm flesh. It promises that nothing will ever get this close again, that this world will be closed off to everyone. Just as the demon has come to hate the one person, the person has come to hate the others. It doesn’t trust them. The willows weep for the human, and the star’s gaze is drawn from their beauty to the mess that lies in their world. Even they are disgusted by the sad little mass that is the hunched over human.
The demon hides in the darkness, letting the others in just to destroy the human, laughing every time it is hurt. It is an inwardly abusive relationship.
The lake remains as glass should, untouched, no fingerprints mar the surface. Tears touch the surface of the lake, sending small ripples across it. The sky that has slid from twilight to darkness smiles down, sweetly oblivious to the turmoil it surrounds. The wind will blow no more, touch no ones cheek, the stars will offer no hope for a better day, and the willows no longer weep. All is dark. All is consumed by the need for euphoria. The cool steel of a warm blade slips across flesh that begs for it.
It is an expression of everything that cannot be said. Questions flare from the others who have been left in the dark. They don’t talk to the person anymore, just amongst themselves. Murmurs echo. They criticize the person. The demons hollow laugh is heard at every corner of the world. The person is secluded and alone. They have been entangled in this place, pushed deeper and deeper every time an other was let in.
Unknown "Domino" Ferocious
- 15 years, 11 months, 26 days ago