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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1160715-My-Room
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by A.S.H Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Gothic · #1160715
A product of boredom and procrastination.
(There are witnesses to creation but I cannot see. I can’t be blind yet darkness is here, next to me and next to you.) A warm sensation is running along my spine, feeling like water. No, it’s treacle, please make it stop. There is suddenly a pain, sharp and cuts into this mind like butter. Spine is changing; starting to twist inwards. I feel alone and try to embrace myself, but this miserable hug saps my spirit. “I don’t understand”.

My eyes are bright now and I see gentle snow. The sink is cold and frozen, the snow is coming from the window but I still feel warm water around me with pain. My thoughts are mixed. "Room" The room is small and there is no door, only marks that run along the grey wallpaper. It looks like the walls are sweating. At my feet is rusty grid, the gaps are small enough to fit my fingers through but I cannot. I stare into the cracked mirror and see nothing. I sigh and wipe off the sheet of ice. The face stares back at me without emotion, the eyes are black and oily, melting and dripping down the pallid cheeks, this skin is also like snow. I run a hand across my cheek to wipe it away, it feels like bone and now the face speaks.

“My justice for you”

The mirror shatters. A thousand shards spray - into me, I am penetrated. Feelings of warm oil lubricate these wounds…now the pain is gone. I start to shiver but I feel warm. "Is this that love?" The wallpaper begins to peel off the wall, the droplets of water multiply and now my feet are submerged, water will not leave me alone.

I hear a strange noise, a cry from the sink, wailing and wailing, what have I done wrong? Suddenly the taps turn and it fills with steamy water. My knees begin to tremble, the light is disapearing which makes my belly sad. I look back into the mirror but the reflection is a blur as water runs down the glass. I take a sigh as the water reaches my waist, I cannot swim. I’m scared. I pull out a piece of glass from my shoulder and drop it; floating it's ideal home. I begin to panic and run for the window but it’s gone.

“Now you must go friend. Remember me and your trueself as well".

I’m going to die now, I cannot swim, I'm going to die.
Remember me.
© Copyright 2006 A.S.H (inorganic at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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