AN: Rewrote this; I didn't like it before. Still having issues with To Exist, but I just had to fix this miserable little piece.
Everything is always cold here. Even on the hottest summer day my heart is frozen in my chest, my lungs full of ice-water. I have been pushed irrevocably from the path my life was supposed to take by that monster- Xena. She stole everything from me; my family, my life and my sanity. She will pay for destroying the future that awaited me – the life that I was meant to have.
'Cause now I'm crazy- don't shake your head like you're trying to be polite- I am crazy, there's no doubt about it. But I'm also dangerous and thatI can work with. Because that's what's gonna help me get my revenge.
It may not look like it right now; sitting on the dank, dirty floor of this miserable cave, but I have plans- big ones. Ones that involve rivers of blood and screaming. Maybe if I make them scream loud enough I won't be able to hear the voices in my head, the ones that shriek and sneer and claw at my eyes. You know, if you cracked my head open like a coconut I think you'd find the ramblings of pure insanity scrawled on the inside of my skull; scratched into the bone by all those evil little things that crawl and squirm in my decaying brain. I wonder, sometimes, what the voices are saying, what they've written on the walls of my mind. They're not very clear about what they want, except for one thing: Xena. Dead. Her blood pouring out onto the ground while her dying screams soothe my monsters into sleep, like a twisted lullaby.
They're clamouring now, snarling and biting and clashing in my head. They all want my attention, but I can't listen to any of them at this moment. Because there is something on my hand; a tickling, feather-light creature that has wholly captured my interest. A spider.
I giggle delightedly, raising my hand to my eyes, a feeling of rapturous wonder expanding in my chest. This little monster chose to step onto me, to inhabit my space willingly. It chose me. And now it's mine.
It runs along my palm and I turn my hand to follow it's movement. The fine hairs on my arm prickle as the tiny legs encounter them and I laugh quietly, my heart softening further towards the oblivious creature. It is mine. My pet. My friend.
It is scurrying this way and that. I think it wants to get down, but it can't. I won't let it, never. Mine, mine…
It's running up my arm, along my shoulder, furry little feet scrambling anxiously. It's on the back of my neck… in my hair.
Terror and rage ignite in my chest as I leap to my feet, thrashing and shrieking.
"Aaaarrrgh! Get off, get off!" I'm screaming, my hands ripping painfully through my hair, desperately trying to comb the little horror out. Finally I think I have it and I open my palm cautiously. It's legs are curled up and it is very still. It looks uneven this way, with three legs on one side and two on the other.
"Spider? Wake up little spider," I croon, leaning close to my hand. It isn't moving. I wriggle my fingers, trying to encourage it to move again. It's still. And suddenly I know. It is dead.
"Nooo, little spider," I groan, clenching my fist involuntarily around my pet. "Don't leave me, don't leave me… they all leave me, you can't… mine, mine."
Hot tears are spilling from my eyes, devastated sobs wrenched from my chest as I curl up, cradling my dead pet delicately to my chest. "Noooo-ooo," I moan, ending on a high keening note. I am rocking back and forth, great, painful cries punctuating my grief.
I am alone again, all alone. Always, always. Only the voices painting pictures in my head to keep me company, and my cold, numb heart that doesn't want to beat any more.