hat: Daiso; bandana: Michael's;
shirt: hand-me-down/DIY; dress: Free People
Her head falls back to rest on the wall behind her. Hair sticks to the sweat on her face as she trembles to the ground, sliding into the corner. Eyes seal shut to block out the darkness that cloaks the room--that doesn't help. She can still sense their energy, hear their hungry panting. Legs kick frantically at the ground, trying to push her further into the corner, as if somehow she can escape. Her muscles are so tense they quiver, and she waits for them to come for her. Whatever they are. Those things that have been following her for ages. She's certain that this time they'll attack.
They keep following her, wherever she goes. Sometimes they quietly trail a few paces behind her. She doesn't mind it then. It's almost like having company. Other times they work up to a brisk walk and move in step with her. That's kind of okay, too. She can manage them, keep them in check. But whenever she starts getting comfortable, they start growling. Then they screech and yell. Then they break into a predatory sprint and reach and scratch and grab and claw and scare her, so she starts running until her legs go numb and her head feels dizzy.
Hit a wall. Ball on the floor. Her legs can't carry her anymore. All the energy's gone to her arms and hands and fingers. She's not in control anymore, so she shuts her eyes and lets the energy take over as her arms flail and twist. Wrists roll, fingers curl, tears run. She's twisting into herself as her nails scratch down her forearms and fists punch at nothing.
Deep breath in. Hold it. Let it go. Arms pinned down. Daring to open her eyes, she realizes she's alone again. Nothing's there. Everything's fine.
This keeps happening. Try as she might, she never understands why. And God knows she doesn't know how to make it stop. At this point, she'd rather have them finish the job. Reach inside her and cut the cord. End the suffering. But they never even lay a finger on her. That's why she can't get help. No one would believe her, even the people who claim to "care" would say she's lying. Right? There's no proof, so it's not a real problem.
* * *
Someone once told my that my mind bounces around a lot.