Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to have no feelings at all? No happiness, no sadness, no evilness, nothing. Just like trees. They don't feel anything at all, and they are okay with it because they never experienced anything emotional. Any ways, they don't have an option. But we do. So what happens when you are numb and there is nothing left at all?
I never hurt myself because I felt dead, I did because I didn't. The pain inside had swallowed everything and it just won't stop. It wanted to get out and tear through my skin. The waves surging inside wanted to break through, and so I had to let it. I had to pick up the blade and drag it across myself and see the blood ooze out of the gashes. At that moment, there was no wrong or right, the devil was not sitting on my shoulder and neither was conscience. It was just me trying to help myself.
Death, I never wanted to kill myself nor show anyone how broken I am. So my thighs seemed to be the better canvas for the art of chaos. A place only I can see, a place no one else knows.
I was thankful for the black ceiling up above. It made it impossible for my thoughts to project in front of my eyes, especially my memories. The only source of light in the corner of the room was not enough to swallow the darkness though but it let me see enough. I wish it hadn't.
I didn't want to see the black walls, I didn't want to see the black floor, I didn't want to see the black veils of the bed to which I was tied to. It was hard not to be consumed by it all but I tried as hard as I could.
There were no mirrors in the room, nothing except the dull brown items of furniture with several shut drawers. I didn't know whether they were unlocked or not since the ropes that bound me to the tall bedposts made it impossible for me to move at all. He was no fool. He left me alone in this room, but he never let me free. All senses of freedom had been long snatched away from me when I woke up in this room with four walls, drawers, and a door. Nothing but empty walls.
Sometimes it felt like I was going to go insane. I would see Liza sitting in one of the dark corners of the room with dead eyes staring at me, asking me why I never told her about him, my past, everything. That it was my fault. I killed her.
Sometimes I would see my mother in her place.
In moments like these, I try not to look in that corner. Instead, I would stare at the dim light shining from the pair of small flower shaped light holders with only the left one working. My body was already out of tears now, only the stains remained.
All that I had left of myself was my body which was clothed in a black nightdress and untouched. At least that's what I believe.
I wasn't completely left alone though, he would come in sometimes to give me food. Other times I would wake up with a full stomach with no such memory of consuming anything but my tears that unwittingly rolled down my cheeks. I don't know what he did to make me unconscious.
He never came in to give me food only. I would often wake up to the sound of flashes as he took Polaroid pictures of me. At first, I would blink and shake my head slowly to get over the blinding flashes while groggily tugging at the ropes then finally, my muffled whimpers echoed through the room since my lips were sealed shut with a duct tape. He didn't like to hear me scream.
Eventually, I got used to it. I don't know how many days I have been here or how many weeks it took me to get used to it, but ultimately I did. Every time he comes in and takes pictures of me, I stare into his dark green eyes and silently ask him.
Why?
He knows the question even though I never say it out loud. He knows it because he looks into my eyes and matches my stares with an undecipherable emotion I never understood. Only silence prevailed in between us. Sometimes I think that it is better that way because I was not yet prepared to hear what I saw in the dark corner.
Are they supposed to be forgotten? Forgiven for all those times when tears drowned those eyes. Those sleepless nights all alone Lying on the bed with the stained pillows. Crying and laughing and crying again For the fate that has chosen A life that never ends. **** I woke up to the flash of bright light falling on my closed eyelids. The urge to open them and see what's happening was immense but the strange heaviness that possessed them made it impossible for me to do so. Perhaps I could use my hands to help me but alas they were tied up but not on top of my head like before. Instead, they were painfully arched back and held together with something that had severe sharp teeth for grip and the more I tried to struggle, the more my hands bled. My legs were in the same condition. Needless to say, I was tied up with zip ties. Slowly parting my lips, I tried to call for help but was soon interrupted by the ine
Bang... Bang... BANG! The deafening slam of the metal rod on the cold hard floor shook me every time he slammed it down. Sometimes he would do so with such force that the ground beneath would shiver under his wrath. Even that unmoving smirk on his face screamed volumes than his words or actions did. "I remember the first time I saw you. With that small little smile and those big teary eyes, you looked so fragile and broken. Your need to hide everything behind that pretty face was what drew me closer to you." His calloused fingers slowly dragged from my right shoulder to my left as he came by and stood behind me. I had no idea where this was headed to or what he wanted it to head to. His words confused me more by each passing second and no matter what, I couldn't find any memories of what he claimed had happened. "It was Christmas Eve. You and your family came to our house for dinner. Shy and quiet with your head bowed down by an invisi
Maybe it was the close proximity I shared with him or perhaps it was the poor ventilation in the dark empty room but whatever it was, I couldn't breathe any more. It's like at that moment I didn't know how to. The ability to concentrate or focus on anything was absolutely impossible when that taunting piece of past dangled in front of my eyes so hauntingly. For a moment it almost seemed like an illusion, something my mind had concocted out of its own accord in such a stressful and panicking situation. But... I wanted it to be a lie, I hoped it was and so the urge to touch and feel and believe that polaroid's true presence, with slightly yellowing edges, was immense. At the same time, I wanted it nowhere near me. I wanted to burn it, to tear it into bits and pieces, to destroy it because it triggered a longforgottenor rather suppressed memory that I never wanted to resurface up again. Say cheese!!! That sickly sweet voice rang in my ears and tore t
"Say cheese!" My mother who seemed unusually excited chimed in her shrill voice to grab the attention of the room full of people, standing in scattered small clusters, as she took pictures of them and their loud smiles. A moment captured in time forever, a memory which would hardly ever be recalled again but it succeeded in achieving what she wanted. To show how happy and silly we were. The truth? Not so much. That was the point. These pictures, these happy smiles, these parties, it has always been the point. To avoid suspicion, to act normal, to blend in. Getting people's affirmations felt like having a subconscious conscience where everything they did was justified, and they knew that if something ever happened then they will always be supported by these people who didn't know the harsh reality of their true faces. She tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear as for a moment her facade broke and with that still pearly white smile on her
The cold touch of something stroking my bare arm rose a trail of goosebumps in its wake and left me shivering. It was a moment of oblivion, a welcome one since I didn't know where I was, who I was with. At that moment the man with the green eyes didn't exist and neither did his unthinkable and unpredictable plans saved for me. This stage in between consciousness and unconscious was the most relief I could possibly have and live in and although it lasted for a few seconds, I was left with the yearning for more before I opened my eyes and faced the inevitable reality of being caged in the arms of my captor. The warmth of his breath fanned my bare neck, shuddering the wisps of my unkempt hair back and forth. I dared not to breathe at all and clenched my eyes shut in the hopes of falling into the darkness of sleep again, but it was all in vain. I heard him smirk behind me as his ice-cold fingers kept trailing and drawing figures on my arm which I couldn't quite understand.
Liza. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized how much I miss her. The shine in her eyes every time she made her favourite chocolate filled cookies and then ate almost all of them because she loved them so much. How she always talked about doing crazy things to her hair but settled for the least ridiculous option. The way she knew her way around everything and never really failed. Oblivious of the charm she had and the light she spread. The first person who stepped into my life and made me realize that all people are not the same. That there is more to the world outside my cage. The first person for whom I almost opened the door. A girl who didn't care about why I was silent. She respected my privacy and understood boundaries better than anyone. She never pushed too hard neither did she let me get through things myself. She just always knew what to do in situations where nothing could be done. Unlike me. I wish I could say that it w
I was not in control. From the moment I met him, I never was. He had this twisted charm that made everything work in his favour always, or maybe he was so stubborn that everything just curled under his unrelenting clench. A man so intransigent, lost to the reasoning of right and wrong, and in control. The numbness was all that I could feel and welcome as I let myself drift into the unknown harmony that controlled me; that I have never heard before yet played so smoothly like it was a part of me. A version of me I knew better than anyone. A version of me that nobody knew. It's funny how time can exist, freeze, move forward, backward, and then forward again. Suddenly it doesn't exist at all. What's left is an irreplaceable shadow that doesn't reoccur ever again. It's always the first and the last, yet we like to pretend that it's the same the next time even though it will never be the same. The exact same shadow that once was created is
I was not quite awake when tears started streaming down my cheeks, making me wince at the harsh reality of what's happening. I didn't want this, I don't want this. I just want this to be over with. The urge to even breathe had left my body as I cried uncontrollably and hugged a pillow closer to my chest to shut the bleeding hole in my chest. It was empty, and I wanted everything to just end right then and there. So much pain, it was unbearable. You have to stay strong. As much as I wanted to stop crying, I couldn't. It didn't make me feel weak but instead, I felt free of the bonds that held everything together for so long. I wanted Liza by my side no matter what and I wanted her safe. Whatever has been happening has gone for too long, and I was over it. The sudden surge of pulsating adrenaline made me sit up as my eyes sprang open, and my hands rubbed my tears away. I was done. Heaving deeply, I tried to muster up all my strength and got out of bed to the bat