Some people are driven by power.
Some imbeciles by love.
Some idiots by hope.
I am driven by fear.
I close my eyes, squeeze them. It should come now.
It's that time again. That time again, I know.
Fear, fear? Am I driven by fear?
I can't be. No.
I feel my fingers twitch as I hear the clock again- a nonexistent clock, now that I think of it- tick.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
What is there to throw, to make it stop?
Stop.
Tick-to-
STOP.
What do I have, what do I have? Empty. A blanket, perhaps. I clench my fingers against it and toss it against my cubicle.
It makes a dull thump as it slides down the wall.
Tick.
Anger.
Anger, does it drive?
Does it drive it back?
Drip.
Here comes the water, now. Somewhere, outside, it might be raining.
Drip-drop.
Might, because I'm not sure what time it is.
Drip-drop.
That makes no sense, come to think of it.
Drop-drop.
Now where did it go, did it go?
Did it go somewhere?
Drop-drop.
Of all times I want the tick and it's not there.
Mm. Funny. Haha.
I feel my lips twitch at the revelation. Twitch, turning upwards.
No. No.
What am I doing.
Tick-tock.
Drip.
The darkness envelopes me. It has enveloped me, a long time ago.
Drip-drop.
Stop it.
Tick-tock.
There was always darkness there, come to think of it. Always darkness in my cubicle, when the sun went down. Makes sense, but it doesn't, at the same time.
Drip.
I just sit there, my eyes dilating, searching, desperately, for any light.
Drip.
Oh, how the others will laugh when they realize. When they realize it.
When they realize that I'm afraid.
Tick.
Ha. Hahaha.
It feels strange, so strange. There is no sound, it feels so dead. So dead silent. And yet my laughter fills the air.
Tick-tock.
Drip-drop.
It pains to fight back.
Stop.
Please. I absolutely beg of you.
Tock.
I need the light. The light, but it's not there.
Drop.
Consumed by the darkness, so long ago.
Reaching up to my face, searching, is it there? Am I still here?
Tick-drip-drop-tock.
I slam my fist against the wall, and hear someone fidget on the other side of it. My hands shake in the cold, dead air.
Metal against steely metal reverberates in the still cubicle.
And it stopped, but for a brief moment.
…..Tick.
Tick-tock.
Drip.
Drip-drop.
That's funny. So funny.
My chest hurts as I burst out laughing, because I just realized it.
Power. Power drives it back.
How could I have been so in the dark?
Tick.
So blind.
Not light.
How else will I remove this fear that clasps on to me like a phantom?
Like a phantom, enjoying this.
Tick.
It won't go away, because it will always be there, mm.
Oh, yes.
Tick.
It only becomes my fear if I let it be my fear.
If I give it power.
Tick-drop.
The power to destroy me, to make me shiver upon contact.
Drip-tock.
But if I welcome the power, if that makes any sense.
Ha.
Haha.
Drip-drop-tock.
Enjoying this feeling of utter madness.
I AM NOT MAD!
And I laugh harder.
Tock.
I am such a hypocrite.
"Mandarin?"
Mad. Madness, it never tasted so good.
Tick-drip-drop-tock.
"Yes, Antauri?"
The spiritual advisor gazes at me worriedly. "Are you alright?"
I am insane. Oh, how I love this.
You should accept it.
Must... accept it.
Accept the sweet darkness.
Become the fear.
Let the insanity corrupt your mind, yes, numb it from fear.
Yes, yes, yes.
No longer afraid.
The clocks will drip, the water will tock.
It will always be there.
"…I am… perfect, Antauri."
He takes a step back as I smile, my eyes glazed as I stare out at... nothing.
"Perfect."
Drip-drop-tick-tock.
No longer driven in fear.
Driven by delicious, glorious insanity.
I welcome you, the darkness.
