Prompt: Trapped
Pokemon: Jirachi
My mind lay silent, but my spirit is screaming. My rest is almost over, and I will soon have to face them again.
A sugary, poisoned cascade of emotion and sensation was borne into my delicate cranium. The world's old, tattered wear given to me in an attempt to welcome me into the cold, mechanical embrace of my habitage. Whirls and twirls of pieces of food lay in the walls, colorless, tasteless. What little desire I had to survive was strangled into these steel, frigid walls. My eyes glue themselves along the line of my life, and robotically follow the trail embedded on the floor of ice. Broken spears lay beside me, shining with dead frost.
My eyes are open, but closed. They are forcefully clenched together; I lay in the dark, opaque stone. Sometimes I can hear irrepreducible singing outside. I can never decide whether to be soothed by it or enraged; it only serves as a reminder of time's existence. The juxtaposition of an abstract thing's importance versus my pseudo existence sickens me.