Piece of Mind

         It’s very sad for you, isn’t it? You look out at the world filled with a beaming sun, blooming flowers, and people going about their business carefree. Doesn’t it irritate you knowing that can never be your life? You have to watch as others have a good, happy life; meanwhile you’re stuck running away, trying to stay one step ahead, to survive what’s coming for you. You try and pretend it won’t happen, that today is the day you finally can rest easy knowing nothing can go wrong, but it won’t take long for it to catch up to you. It wants you, it craves you, so eventually it will find you and make you submit to it.
      You sit on your bed, feet planted on the cool tiled floor. You take deep breaths, in and out, and in and out. Your heart rate is slowly increasing, your body starting to tense. With each breath and each passing second a rage builds inside you; your eyes widen, your breathing becomes loud and there’s a constant screaming in your head. Heat begins to build from somewhere inside you, and you just keep getting angrier. Your body begins to shake, your vision blurs and all you see is shades of grey and all you hear is your own heart pounding violently in your chest. This anger keeps building until there’s nowhere for it to go, and you just cry. Your hands and nails have clenched so tightly into fists that you’ve managed to puncture the skin in your palms. The pain distracts you and you slowly come back to reality and realize what you’ve done to yourself. You carefully lick your dry lips; take a long swallow, anything to help your dry throat. These feelings are an excellent indicator that it is close, but the pain of it all just doesn’t seem worth it for you. You’d rather it just finish with you; come for whatever it wants, as long as this can all just end. That is how you feel, isn’t it?
      You begin to look around your plain, empty room. There’s a simple bed with no fancy sheets or quilt. One small dresser sits in the opposite corner, holding your clothing and some accessories. The walls remain the same yellow they were when you first moved in. You can still make out the discoloration of the picture frames the previous owner had hung. They were probably hanged with care, a reminder of a fun night out or some sort of accomplishment. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could have that too?
      Alas, you know how risky it would be for you to have an ordinary life don’t you? It won’t stop coming for you. It needs to have you, to devour what ever is left of you. You’ve done well to try and hide from it, going weeks, even months at a time without it being able to find you, but, unfortunately for you, it still somehow manages to pick up your scent. You’ve done your best to hide; you never take the same route twice, you move often to avoid establishing a pattern in your life. These are all good ways to stay hidden. However, they are not enough. And you keep wondering how, how can it keep finding you?
         “What is it?” you demand! “What does it want?” All these questions keep circling around, making fun of you, reminding you of how little you know about it and what it truly wants from you. It thrives on this cruel game; the more questions you have, the more frustrated you become, and the more powerful and happy you make it. Every moment of every day it weighs on your mind, distracting you from anything and everything else. It has succeeded in consuming your thoughts, and soon, oh so very soon, it will succeed in consuming you entirely.
         “Help. Please.” You cry the sound of someone on the verge of giving up. You hear the defeat in your own voice, don’t you? It can too.
         You are smart to step into the shower now. The steam that’s rising can help calm you. The water easily hides your tears. You let it envelope you, the steady stream of hot destroy all the bad from you. In this moment, you feel better, almost at peace. But this won’t work forever. You know it will come for you, no matter what, but just not when. It likes to play this game with you, to tease you, building on your fear and uncertainty; then, once you reach your peak, attacking you. Its favourite part is the chase, you know. It likes to see you run around, try and hide, and then it pounces. You know it’s coming, yet it always surprises you when it attacks. How it delights in this game the two of you play. It finds an immense, perverted pleasure in your pain.
         It’s hard to fight it. You feel yourself getting weaker with each visit it pays you. The first time you fought valiantly, your determination and strength easily overpowering it. But, over the years, your resolve to defeat it has weakened considerably.
         “There has to be a way. It can’t be like this. It is stoppable,” you tell yourself. Look at yourself in your bathroom mirror; do you see your weakened state, your body and mind on the verge of defeat? Look at your frail, skin and boney body, your pale face. The hope that once shone in your eyes is gone, replaced with dull blackness.
         You lay awake crying most nights, knowing that tomorrow could be the day it comes for you. That tomorrow could be the day you’re forced to leave, pick up what’s left of your life and flee again.
         “I’m tired,” you say, tears swelling up in your eyes.
         You’re dressed now, plain clothing, nothing that would draw attention. That’s important to you; blending in, hiding in plain sight. But you have doubts about how long it will last, how long you can keep hiding before it comes again. With a final sigh, you grab your keys and a few important possessions, already packed in a bag by the door, and go.
         Where are you going?
        You step out onto the street in a boring and quiet little neighbourhood. Around you are people hurrying by, living their lives. You spend some time looking around, making sure it hasn’t found you yet. You need to decide quickly where you will go.
You begin to head east, knowing it will be darker in that direction soon, providing you good enough cover to sneak away. You pass by all sorts of people; the retired couple walking around, enjoying the early evening, then there are the children running around playing while their parents watch from a short distance. Wouldn’t it be nice if this was your life? Wouldn’t it be nice to just go out and have fun, be carefree and not worry?
        Ha, you know that’s only wishful thinking. There is no hope for you. You are stuck like this, a cruel cycle of fear. This is your life. So you keep walking, head down. You’re like a shark; if you stop moving, you die.
        You turn the next corner, when you start to feel dizzy and nauseated. Everything around you starts to spin slowly, and you cling to the wall to keep from falling. But you can’t stop now; this is it, it has come for you.
        You’re breathing increases and heat rises up your neck and cheeks, while a cold shimmers down your spine. This connection between the two of you is fascinating, how your body simply knows when it’s near.  You begin to look around frantically. You have to see it; finally find out what it is.
        People are staring now as you try to hide your tears. In the distance you hear children laughing. Oh god, the children, you think to yourself. You have to warn their parents. You run towards them, screaming.
      “Please, it’s here. Please, take your children inside!” you frantically scream to the parents. You have their attention, and they yell for their children to run. Yes, you think, just get them inside! You run to a young boy who’s fallen. You reach for him, crying for him to keep running, to hide. His mother runs for him, grabs him just as you reach them. “Keep him inside, keep him safe!” you yell to her, your throat throbbing, your head pounding. But you don’t have time to think about that now; you just need to get everyone away.
        People are slowly backing away from you. You realize that you’re endangering them, because as it nears closer to you, it may hurt someone else. You start running, to get away from them, to save them. If it’s not near them, it can’t hurt them, you reason. “Don’t worry,” you yell to them behind your back as you begin to run, “just stay away and it won’t hurt you!” you scream, running at full pace.
         With your lungs burning and legs slowly cramping up, you take a sharp turn down a long alley. But, you’re too slow. You can feel a cold chill grabbing at your feet first; it’s trying to trip you. This is it, you think, this is where it ends. This is your last chance to do something, anything, to make it stop. This is the last time you can fight with the hope of winning. This is not a good idea; it’s strong, it will destroy you completely. No! you scream; you tell yourself that you have to stand and fight, that you won’t be afraid anymore, you can’t be. You hide behind a dark dumpster and tell yourself to take deep, calming breathes. You need to be focused now. You pull a long bladed knife out of your bag and tighten your grip on it. You’re prepared to stand against it and confront it once and for all. You’re surprisingly calm in this moment, signalling that out of all the things you’ve tried over the years, this is the only way to finally end it. 
        It’s close to you now; you’re almost within its grasps. You take one final breath and jump out from behind the dumpster. It moves behind you at an alarming speed; its agility is astounding. Move as fast as you want, you think, but this is where it ends. You jump back and bring the knife out in one powerful thrust, but it only passes through air. Everything begins to blur again, but you don’t stop. You keep turning in every direction, following its coldness, the knife moving with you in fluid motions.
        It’s just too fast. But you can’t stop now because if you do, then it wins. So you keep moving left and right, crouching down and then shooting back up. All the while your knife wielding hand does not stop; it slices through the air with all the grace of a dancer, and the ferociousness of a lion. You do not hesitate. You listen carefully, trying to predict where it will go next.
        You feel a cold breeze move past your left side, turning behind you. With one fluid motion and all the force you can muster, you thrust the knife to the left and then jab it backwards. You feel the knife penetrate something solid. In that split second, all manner of sound escapes the alley, and all you hear is the blood pulsating in your head.
        Finally, you think to yourself, a small smile on your face.
        There’s a sharp pain, and with a brute force, all sound returns, and that’s when you hear the deafening scream escape the alley. You slowly fall down to your knees, your entire body going limb. All you hear is the quiet clatter of the knife hitting the cement. Your body falls back and you lay down in the alleyway, exhaustion coming over you. Your breathing is slowing down. This is the first time in a long time that you’ve felt this sort of calm, as if you are at rest. You look up at the sky and see so many little stars, just sitting above you, twinkling as if only for you. So you let out a slow, shallow breath and wait for the ensuing warmth that you know has to be coming. You smile, and tell yourself, finally, the end.