Screaming. Nothing but hours upon hours of screaming. Trying to rationalize my behavior without including herself in the equation. Trying to claim that I was in my own hemisphere and that nothing from the outside world could ever reach me. I hated her. I wished she was dead. I could see myself murdering her in cold blood. But I decided against the twisted images birthed from my darkness. I made my imaginative self put down his pipes, chair legs, dinner plates, and other improvised weapons seen about the kitchen. I mopped up the pools of murky blood, sloshing along the floor in great waves of redness. The flesh gave way to colorless organs. But I was to see none of it. Stockholme Syndrome.

The worst part was that she wasn't the only one sentencing me. The others reproved me as well, natural demagouges with fire-spit and forked tongues. Only Spencer said nothing. He could dimly remember feeling this way. He had pushed those memories so far into the recesses of his brain that he could not recall them. It was a failsafe mechanism, but it worked too well.

And as fingers pointed and jabbed and arms coursed random paths encompassing the room, I was left to take the blame, to become the scapegoat. I was not at fault here, at least not entirely. They had two years to realize their mistakes...No, they had a lifetime to realize their mistakes. They made no efforts except to push me harder. And now I was there target? I was the source of such bigotry? Targeted by what? Knownothings! So utterly ignorant of their own provincial views that they couldn't fathom the scope of a sky without such inhibiting clouds. That they couldn't even try to understand.

And yet they insisted that they could. That they did. That I was exaggerating. That I was tired. That I was frustrated. I was not. I was not. I was NOT. I whipped a stinging hand across the viper's face, the scourge severing her armor of arrogance. It was replaced by surprise at first, then by shame, then remorse, and then fear. She smacked me back, threatening to call the authorities.

Now her wounded ego allowed her to compare herself to others once more, and she began creating scapegoats out of everyone I knew. My classmates, my teachers, my father, Jeremy, Spencer, Carly, Sam...SaM...SAM...SAM!!

"Since when did you get the right to criticize Sam!" My friends stopped exhorting me. They wore faces of the utmost shock...except for Spencer, still trying to recall vague memories. Failing, every time. There was nothing he could do here...

"She's a heathen! All of your friends are horrible people! If this is how being around them makes you act, you are hereby condemned from seeing them or Sam ever again! I will not have you throwing your future away over something so frivolous..."

"What future? What future do you even see? I see nothing but darkness ahead...Everyone has to die someday. And soon, I'll have to support you! I'll have to bear your burdens! There's no future to speak of! There's no hope to salvage!"

"Shut up with this vile crap, these impossible lies!"

"It's not a lie! This is how I feel! You could never understand! You're not me!!"

"Fredward Benson! Look me right in the eyes! Now we both know that you're just lying. You're just making up horrible stories! Just tell the truth for once! I will not let you lie to me any longer!"

"This is one of the few times in my life that I'm not lying to you! I'm being completely serious! And for once I don't care about how you feel about it! For once I don't feel guilty about pushing things onto your conscience! In fact I want you to feel pain! I want you to feel the impossible torture I've suffered through! I want you to HURT! Then I'll feel better!"

I was held hostage. I was getting violent. I struggled, they could not hold back my will. I was fuming, I could've sworn that smoke was erupting in clouds from my nose. My whole body was beat red, and adrenaline permeated every fiber. My face drew into a black scowl as my eyes went blind with hatred. Colors began to appear from nowhere because the permanent tear in my eye had evaporated. It burned, but the pain fueled my anger. My entire body vibrated inches of space; my fingers dug into my palms so hard that I was starting to pick up blood.

Seeing her imminent doom, she played her trump card. "If you swing at me even once, I will call the police and have you expelled! I will obtain a city permit to have you shipped away free of charge! Then you'll never see any of your friends again!"

I knocked her down and ran from the room. My heart beat impossibly fast. If I stayed in that room any longer, I would have killed that bitch. It wasn't safe for me to be around her when I was this mad. I had to go somewhere. But first, I ran back and broke every phone I could find. I shattered them all. And when I got to the ground level, I slashed their tires open with barbed wire I ripped off of a fence. I was temporarily immune to pain; godlike. ImMorTaL...

I ran to the nearest park, cutting myself with the barbing profusely, letting excess blood rain down my limbs in brief showers and occasional monsoons. The bugs would be feasting tonight. They and the crud and the adrenaline would keep me alive long enough until I got to that magical place. The place where all pain evaporated. Where everything was nothing, and meant nothing.

I ran for hours; I got lost many times. I slowed to a walk and continued through immense cramping pain. My legs began to buckle under my weight and refused to move anymore. I began to stumble and limp my way in some sort of demented jog through the city, only one destination in mind.

When I arrived at the house, I began to pass out on the doorstep, right after ringing the doorbell. Right after seeing her face grace my presence. As I fell, as my body hit the pavement she seemed to be the sun in all its glory. Some angel radiating light from every pore in her skin; the fear in her face was my delight. I caught myself and stood upright. I stumbled through the doorway, not caring about being polite. I looked around and realized what I had thought all along was true. Her cracks about dangerous family members and the like were mainly exaggerated, built off of improvisation and imagination. She threw in a little reality every once and a while to keep us guessing.

But her house was normal, in every sense of the word. Well almost...Her mother seemed about as bad as mine, and her father wasn't home. He must still be working. It may be late, but its not uncommon for industry workers to work late overtime or to get called back out for work. Especially if they worked in labs or the like in day-round positions.

"I love you!" I had said it brusquely and scratchily, using up an entire lung-full of air. I kissed her on the lips hard, extremely hard! I pressed her body up onto the wall and deepened the kiss, holding her in a vice grip akin to a wrestling grapple. I did nothing else; I didn't even imply going any further. But I would not let up on the kiss.

I forced my tongue to stretch its full length, pressing my head against the brunt of her repulsive force. Her attempts to jar me off with pain would not work. Finally, she settled on biting my tongue. Even then, I held her tightly as I blacked out from blood loss.

Today I prayed my plane would crash
You'd hear the news
And you'd think of me as much as I thought of you

And if you never repeat my words
You said them before, and I remember the sound
I keep the lights off
I know you're right here
No matter what, you can't say no to me in my dreams

Your routine is so divine. I have it memorized
As you walk to your window with your light on inside
I know you'll never find me here
As you admire the view
Do you know how pretty you look with your hair down?
I walk to the window admiring the view

Go Wash Your Mouth, I Don't Know Where It's Been - Fear Before the March of Flames

And I was a middle son,
Between two wayward ones.
I was more deserving of my parents' love.

I had an angel's smile,
Hiding a vultures bite.
I had no use for Your redeeming blood.

Aren't I glory, glorious?

Glory, glorious.
Aren't we glory, glorious?
Aren't we worthy, worthy of hearts at our feet?

Empire - As Cities Burn