Alive and Unwell

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By AconiteVyper
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He grins and laughs at me, his wide brimmed hat shadowing his already sunken eyes. "You're a fool." He's taunted me before. This same line, over and over again, helping me to replay the scene in my head. "She trusted you, and you, imbecile that you are, threw it away like a rusty nail."

"Shut up!" I can't stand it anymore. I've no more tears left to cry. Only words in my head that won't stop; won't leave me in peace.
"Peace?" he asks. Of course he can hear my thoughts. Of course he can read my words. He is me. I am him. And yet neither is the other. "You don't deserve peace, after that display. And now you avoid life like a rat, hiding in its hole. You cage me like an animal, and think you can get away with it all. You take away my fun!" His voice is a growl, so uncharacteristic of his normal self. I suppose I've a knack for bringing out the best in him though.
"That you do, boy. But you're getting off track. This is about her. About you. About your ignorant, foolish, wool-headed attempts to be a man. You aren't! You're just a dead-brained moron, and a child."
"I said SHUT UP!"

Flashes. Replays. Two scenes. Three. Ten. The same. Different. What I did. What I should have done. What I needed not to do.
"He's a moron, and an imbecile. The stupid little man I'd kill." His sing song tone is driving whats left of my sanity away. "I don't have to kill you myself, though, do I boy? You're doing a fine job of it yourself."

He won't leave me alone. He's right there beside me now. I can't put him back. "Do you want me to go? Awww...well too bad!" He grins that maniacal beaming smile at me. I'm half surprised the world hasn't seen through the facade I've put on. Apparently I'm much better at masking things than I thought.
"Isn't that what you want though? No-one needs to know. No-one needs to see. Its just you...and me! Forever and ever, just the two of we." He cackles. The Welsh accent I found so drawing is beginning to wear thin on me.

"Come now boy, you're not supposed to be talking about me. It's her you lament for isn't it? I'm here, despite the fact that she won't be. I'm your constant companion. The one who'll keep you from being lonely. You don't -need- her." He smiles, sarcasm deep in his voice. He knows his words are a lie. Some of them are. "And you think someone will read this and feel sympathy for you?" He doesn't understand the need for release. How ironic, him having been caged. He should know. He knows me so well. And yet...

"And yet what, hmm? Perhaps I should tell them, eh?" He thinks he's smart. As if I had anything left to jab at. "You may be in pieces, boy, but I can crush those pieces into fragments more. And I'm relatively certain I'm the only one who'd get enjoyment out of that." He continues to grin at me. He's more sadistic than he seems at first glance. That's my fault though, isn't it? I made him that way. Or did I? Sometimes I can't tell anymore. I suppose that's what she meant though...
She always was smarter than me.

"Yes, she is. I'm still not sure what she ever saw in you. Let's just be glad you don't have to worry about it anymore." He knows I'll worry about the whole of it for much too long yet. He gets far too much enjoyment out of it to think otherwise. I suppose I enjoy torturing myself too, else I'd have found a way to suppress the whole ordeal.
"Oh, but you did, remember? And yet, despite everything that's happened, you still can't give her up, can you? Moron..." His exasperation at the whole thing seems contradictory. Its the only saving grace about the whole thing. Small consolation in the scheme of it...
" 'I wuv her and I can't let go!' " He knows its not like that. Not entirely. Not...completely.
"Kid yourself all you want, boy. But I -do- know. She does too. She's smarter than you, remember?"

"Shut...up..." A grumble is all I can muster. I'm too tired. Too depressed. Writing and sleep. My only two reprieves in the whole of it all. Even writing seems to be losing its luster...
He bursts into laughter, pounding away at my mind.

I can't stand it anymore. I've no more tears left to cry. Only words in my head that won't stop; won't leave me in peace. At least unconsciousness stops it all.
If only for a little while.

"Just you try, boy..." he chuckles at me, sinister intent in his smoldering, amber eyes. "Just you try!"
They say "Time heals all wounds"

I think I'll need awhile with this one. The normal kind are hard enough to get rid of. But the self-inflicted ones are even worse...
© 2010 - 2020 AconiteVyper
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charliiie2's avatar
charliiie2Hobbyist Traditional Artist
.tempus omnia vulnera curat.
i know how it feels...
beautifully written ;)
AconiteVyper's avatar
AconiteVyperHobbyist Writer
My thanks.