"Them"
Soon she wont be able to enter school without crying and then leave the house. She'll end up covered in lost memorabilia, sobbing gently to herself curled up in the foetal position. Slurring out the names Johnny, James, Jack and Danny as one by one she prints out yet another photo of "them". She's used photoshop to make them into a 4 headed sex monster, preaching to "them" every 7 hours, 34 minutes. She worships them, chanting her mantra of "them them them".
She hears something in her ear, the voices were returning, she perceived it to be "them" yearning for a sacrifice. She grabbed a knife, before swiftly decapitating one of her prised lost figurines. She let out a wail of despair, but it was not in vain, "them" were pleased once more.
The next day, there it was again. Those same evil voices, they needed a sacrifice again. They had to be the only ones she worshipped. They led her to the knifes again, she slowly drew it out and slashed her longed for Katy Perry poster. By now, "them" were in control.
She was merely a puppet of "them" now, what was once merely a joke jpeg file on her pc had evolved consuming her, any morsel of integrity left in her parched soul was directed towards "them", "them" were no longer a part of her, her callous frame was merely a part of "them".
She did everything "them" told her to do. She has destroyed her beloved figurines, slashed her bigger than life size Katy Perry poster and even let Alfie and Oliver free. All affection she had was only directed towards "them". They had taken over her soul and there was no way out.
She senses a presence at the door, not like the usual presence of her weeping mother, something else, something powerful. She wilfully looked up, could this be it? The day that she could become a whole person again and not a mere shell of herself? Could it be the real "them"?
She swung the door open, she didn't care what happened anymore, as it's hinges creaked further and further round, an intense heat hit her, something was burning into her skin, penetrating her final strand of humanity and she tumbled to the ground. The blinding white light that came from the door was too bright to look at. She tried to squint but to no avail. She just chanted to herself "let it be them, let it be them" and slowly four shapes start to emerge. As the shapes became clearer, the double denim combo of Danny became clear, James' ghostly jaw, Johnny and Jack bringing up the rear, it seemed real to her. It wasn't.
Was this what "them" had done to her? She had grown to accept the voices but hallucinations? She reached out trying to touch the studs on the combo of denim and denim, all her hand met was a fiery sensation. Soon it was too much for her so she has to pull away. "them" can only become more elite from now on.
She looked back at her hand, they were on fire, but not physical fire, something much deeper, much more intense. She cried. It was the first emotion she'd shown to anything but "them" for 7 years, the tears stung down her cheek, the crusty layer of sleep was dissolves, she blinking heavily, not just once or twice but repeatedly, it felt good.
She slowly began to regain her posture, her tears fell rapidly now, she tried to hold them back but it only stung her eyes more. Somehow she felt overpowered, like "them" was a mere figment of the imagination now. She looked down at her fake tan clad arms, then her hands and then down at the rest of her body. What has she done to herself?
Then she looked back at the empty door frame, there was nothing there, only darkness, she scrambled backwards, clawing into the matted carpet of her room, she feel a jab in the palm if her hand, again there was nothing there. What had she become?
She looked around, the heads of the figurines strewn carelessly around the room, the remains of what was once her cherished Katy Perry poster. "them" has taken over her for 7 years, could this be the day she begins to rebuild herself? She looked across at her wall, the one covered by "them". She grabbed her hair straighteners and burned them off, it felt good, when she saw the faces that had oppressed her curling into ash, she even cracked a smile.
Wait, she heard faint mumbling, uh oh was this them? Danny's smooth Irish accent and the mellow sound of Johnny's Texan. yes, there it was again. they didn't seem like the former "them" she heard. these ones didn't seem dominating, they seemed softer somehow. Maybe they were beckoning her back, coaxing her into their trap, could she take the perpetual cycle of preaching to them, all the hurt they'd caused was coming back, she shook her head, she wouldn't allow herself to fantasise like that again, the soft feel of the denim on denim, the way James' eyelashes flowed in the wind, Johnny's stunts becomes more and more dangerous, Jack getting naked in Lost once again. She couldn't let herself revert back to that ghost of herself. She tried to shake the thoughts out her head but it just wasn't working. were "them" winning again. She couldn't let that happen. She writhed around on the floor, fighting the other half of her conscience. She tried to remember what had been good in her life before "them". She remembered her friends, her family. She focused, tears streaming down her face again.
Music began to play in her head, she couldn't make it out, the tune was too faint. As the tears got heavier the music got louder, she could now hear it clearly. It was breakeven, this was the song she was listening to right before her first episode of "them". Then, just like her favourite show, she woke up, she was lying in a hospital ward.
A wave of panic flooded over her. she was in a state of confusion now. how did she get here she though. suddenly, she heard the faintness of an Irish accent, oh no. She looked up a shadowed figure, denim trousers, coupled with a denim jacket, could it be? The bright light shining down made her have to squint. This reminding her of the door way. She began to get scared, trembling. Suddenly the figure moved down to her side, face level with her. Was this real?
She couldn't tell anymore, everything felt distant, like she was there but at the same time she wasn't. Everything started to echo, the sound creating a deafening rumble. She quaked in her skin, was this "them" exerting their revenge.
She fell into a swirling detritus of darkness, she could hear faint echoes of the heart monitor beeping, she felt the needle connected to a drip going into her, almost orange, hand. she tried to sit up but she felt as if there was a buckled holding her down. suddenly, she heard one clear voice. it sounded like an American accent "are you okay? miss? HELP WE NEED HELP".
