Silent Torture

Erin Stone

After slamming my door in a fiery rage, I throw myself onto my bed with tears flying down my face. This isn't what I wanted for my life. This isn't who I wanted to be. Absentmindedly, my fingers slide under my bracelets to the soft, yet scarred patch of skin on the inside of my wrist. The touch is both comforting and sickening at once. I'm shaking now and fighting for breath as my memories of past demons come back to haunt me. A shadow of my former self. I'm so alone in this mess.

One heartbreaking scream into a pillow later, I'm still no better. My dogs huddle on the edge of my bed. They're unsure how to react; fear creasing through their wrinkled faces. I wish they could understand what I need them to know. I wish someone, anyone, could understand. With an exasperated sigh, I slam my head against the wall near my bed and hug my knees to my chest. The pain in my head momentarily distracts the emotions, but not for long. Again, my fingers crawl beneath the bracelets that keep my secrets safe. Oh, how easy it would be to give into that wretched temptation.

I grit my teeth in frustration, despite hating the sensation it brings. I'll take that feeling over remembering the reality of my life any day. Temptation continues to taunt me, and I continue my futile resistance. I stare at the light above my bed, willing it to burn through my eyes and blind me completely. Anything is better than this. The words whisper from my dry lips before I have a chance to comprehend their meaning. When I do, the shame courses like blood through my veins.

Why am I the one that has to deal with this mess? Why do I have to cry myself to sleep every night? Is my life just a game for a higher power to play with? I'm a real person. I have real feelings. I haven't done anything to be worthy of such a life. I don't deserve this quiet suffering. The silent torture of my mind.

Tears flow faster now, as I dive underneath my quilt. If I surround myself in blackness then maybe my mind will go black too. No such luck as my thoughts don't even hesitate their path around my head. The emotional pain is too much to take. I slip away into unconsciousness.

Published by Erin Stone

I'm a 22 year old female from BC, now residing in QC. I write about what interests me, mostly my own experiences, as I'm not very good at fiction, but I may suprise everyone & write something creative. Stay...  View profile

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  • Brandi Brown10/4/2008

    Oh sweet one...I first must say how in awe I am of you - your strength to share this place - I know i have known it, and know it in my own way and yet have the grace and courage to breathe those thoughts into the world. Such grace and empowerment I see in you as each step you take like this - the torture will dissipate, or so I have found for myself, because as I speak my mind, it loses its power and my heart grows stronger. So glad you are hear lovely one.

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