Page 53 of Fragmented Illusions
Or maybe I’ve truly lost my ever-loving fucking mind.
Arms grip my shoulders and spin me around, pushing me forward. I stumble a bit and brace myself on the wall, feeling around for the doorknob.
“Don’t turn around when you open that door,” Silent demands, and a shiver works its way down my spine, but I do as he says. I take a deep breath, turn the knob, and step out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind me without a backwards glance.
It’s not until I make it down the stairs, out the front door, and two blocks away I feel like I can breathe properly again.
Whatwasthat?
Part V
“And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.”
—Edgar Allen Poe,The Conqueror Worm
Chapter Thirteen
Fallon
What the hell just happened?
I stumble to the apartment, slowly, but moving forward, nonetheless. Though I haven’t the faintest clue how I’m even moving right now. I can’t feel my legs beneath me. In fact, I can’t feel my entire body.
My feet shuffle across the concrete and when I let my head hang heavily between my shoulders, my eyes meet the pavement and land on white flakes of snow drifting to the ground, though not even a second after they come into contact with the cement, they disappear. All that is left is a droplet of water, dampening the ground with the flurry of them floating to the ground. The wind is whipping my hair back and forth across my face, forcing a bone deep chill to seep into the deepest parts of me. I know the strands lashing me should hurt, but they don’t. I can’t feel my face and I’m not sure if it’s because of the frigid air or because I’m numb from what happened.
No. No, that’s not entirely correct. I can feel my body—parts of my body. I can feel every deliciously painful bit of what they did to me, but something is different.Ifeel different. This isn’t good. I know it’s not—how deep they have their hooks in me.
I crave their attention, their touch. Their manipulative advances.
It’s heady, not only knowing they want me, but knowing their secret. I know what they do, and they are not trying to kill me for it. They want to trust me… And I think I want them to.
I may not know their faces—or their names—but at this point, what does it matter?
You’re jumping right off the bridge.
Sinking deep into the murky water.
And you fucking love it.
“I want to drown with them,” I tell It, my words surprising me, though I know I can’t deny it. I decided to surrender and die rather than fight and die, but I can’t bring myself to regret my decision when it feels so good.
I haven’t felt this…freebefore. My mind feels lighter, the pressure of trying to be better for everyone simply gone. No longer plaguing me.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I mindlessly step out into the hallway leading to the apartment. I’m aware as I go through the motions; opening the door, shutting it, walking to my room, opening that door then shutting it.
I plop down on my bed and stare forward at the wall, my body instantly losing every bit of strength it had left. I need to shower desperately. I can feel my release dried to my thighs, causing my leggings stick to my legs in an uncomfortable way, but instead, I drop my head down to my hands in my lap. My damp hair, now in knotted waves from the snowflakes, falls forward, the red strands surrounding the edges of my vision as I stare at my hands.
My fingers are twisted together and when I move to separate them—to force myself to stand—something on my nails catches my eye.
Red.
I squint my eyes as I bring my fingers closer to my face to get a better look. I flip my hand and examine my fingernails.
It’s blood.
There is dried blood crusted underneath a few of my fingernails. I make a quick glance at my other hand and see the same thing. I squeeze my eyes and take a deep breath as I let myself focus on the memories already permanently burned into my brain.
