What Sam should be doing: Writing another chapter of To Rue is To Regret. What Sam is doing: Writing one-shots in algebra about Chris. So instead of working on my polynomials I wrote this. As always I hope you enjoy.
The darkness is palpable, it is tense and heavy. It is alive. The only thing you feel and the only thing that can be. Breathing down my back in a way that is all too real. I can't escape it. It always finds its way back, always watching me.
I'm not crazy.
The nightmares, occurring every time I shut my eyes. They'll never leave, tattooed into the memories I never wanted back. As my real insanity may have ceased, the one I remember still lurks behind, waiting for its chance to re-imbed itself. Waiting for me to relapse.
I'm not crazy.
The light makes everything ok. Clearing my head with a rush so intense it's as if I've surface from a lake of nightmares after holding my breath to long. Clawing my way to reality only to be pushed down as the sun creeps lower into the blackness. Leaving me to ponder what is real and what is only my memory. But the memories are real. Much too real.
I'm not crazy.
The walls made of the cold, sinister stone. Watching, waiting, moving. Threatening to crumble at the slightest chance. The pulse of what seems to be a heartbeat. But that's impossible, buildings aren't alive. They can't read your mind. And they can't conjure the things you fear into life before your very eyes. But this one can. And this one will.
I'm not crazy.
The screaming. Ringing in my ears at every sound. All my senses, alive at once. Mary's scream. I left her. I have to go back and get her. She can't survive on her own. She's only a little girl. I can't leave her down there. I have to go back and get Mary. I have to keep her safe. She needs to get out alive. I have to save her. But I can't, Mary is dead.
I'm not crazy.
I can't think straight, my thoughts muddled by the glimpses of teeth and fangs. Claws slashing my flesh. The crimson running down my skin, staining me in a veil of red. Red. Like Clarisse's armor. I'm in a desert. And I don't have the string. Where is Mary? I have to save her.
I'm not crazy.
The darkness and light mixing together, fighting for dominance. The darkness wins. The nightmares are back flooding me in a terror, washing over me in a cold so frigid it feels as if I'm bathing in fire. The walls are pulsing to the sickening drum that is its heart. Shaking as they crumble down on top of me. Laughing in pleasure as I suffocate. I'm ready to give up. The screaming. Mary. Where is Mary? I have to save her. Screaming. Why is Mary screaming? I see her, lying there. Veiled in crimson all her own. Clarisse. We're in the dessert. I see the sand turn to ash. My mind after the maze burned it to the ground. The ground. Clarisse is on the ground. No, not her too. My feet move slowly, kicking up the ash. It burns my eyes. Must move forward. I'm too late. Clarisse is not alive. Her eyes glassy and round. She begins to decay. Her flesh dripping off her bones, turning to smoke as it falls to the ground. Her skull is grinning back at me. The arena. So many skulls. The son of Poseidon is gone. His skull is on top, the widest of all the grins. I don't have the string.
I'm not crazy.
As much as I hate Algebra I must admit I'm thankful it's so boring. If it weren't I'd never have thought of this. I hope you guys liked it or at least found it interesting.