A/N: It's funny cos it's short.
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Psychosis: Revelations
*
Rat ta ta. Rrrrat ta ta. Tara tarah. Farrah sha la la la.
In the garden I stand while airing my hand and swiftly I call to the birds in the fall for what reason with all due respect I must stall while smacking the wall my face hidden in shawl and I call and I call and I call and I call and I call but to nothing at all.
Is a plant that isn't a tree but is taller than me still a shrub? It's some sort of exotic bush, as far as I can tell, the leaves are more solid and sharp. And as I stand beside it, just staring into the green, I press my left shoulder into one of the jaunting, stabbing leaves and attempt to break the skin with it. And rightly so. Why shouldn't I see what else in this world hates me?
But the leaf is weak. Weaker than I. It crumples and twists and flicks to my thigh.
I don't care. That's fine. It can reject me too like Leo did, and like those two girls are coming to do right now. Oh yes, I know they are, here they come, here they-
Closing my eyes, I wince and wait for them to appear, to yell at me with all their might or to simply put on brave faces and attempt to nice-talk me around into the sanitarium with their 'reason' and their 'negotiation' and their damn 'clarity'. They think I'll respond to that? Do they have the audacity to even believe I would consider listening to their pisstake of what humans should behave like? Humans shouldn't behave! Humans shouldn't be!
Nothing comes. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps they've given up on me fully. Perhaps I'll be left alone now.
"Piper?" comes a timid voice from behind me.
Perhaps I was wrong.
Spinning on my heels, I deliver a sharp smack to the jawline of the speaker. A whirl of red waves turning through the air alerts me as to who it was as the... younger of the girls, the milky-skinned one, slaps onto the ground, crying out more in shock than pain. I must've hit her harder than expected.
The other one's eyes become wild with fury, or fear, as she glances first at the girl on the ground, then into my eyes. I spark no recognition for her features. She throws a hand out, palm facing me, and goes into a defensive posture. "Piper," she begins in a calm warning voice, "just relax, okay? We're not gonna hurt you. Calm down and we won't hurt you, I swear."
My response to this reasonable, clarified negotiation is to once again twist my body around, this time bringing my leg up in order to connect it with the girl - Phoebe's - stomach. But my action is not unforseen.
Phoebe catched my leg and before I can react, turns my foot against the bone and forces me to spin with it. Before I know it, I'm lying face down in the dirt, and my sisters are bearing down on my back. Arms are ripped up from where they were sprawled in front of me and held taught behind my back, ligaments screaming and also my mouth.
"Get her indoors before the neighbours see!" Phoebe urges the redhead, and then that sickening feeling of orbing overcomes me as my vision goes white before we appear in my very own bedroom. But this time it is different.
As I writhe on the mattress and attempt to escape, the redhead punches my chin hard enough to daze me while they chain my hands and feet to the shackles now screwed onto the bedposts. "What are you doing?" I shriek in horror, truly terrified for my life.
No reply. Instead, once the job is done, they step back sweatily and admire their handiwork; their own sister bound to her bed, helpless and vulnerable. Their own blood twisting and writhing in rage, desperately attempting escape and for what? Amusement? Is that what I am? Just a toy for them to play with whenever boredom calls?
I turn around and pluck at a flower, a pink one with huge, billowing petals. It begins to grow and grow in my hand until soon its weight I cannot bear.
I wonder about my sisters, how I used to trust them, how I used to love them, and how they conspire to slaughter me. I consider the gore and horror that is my day-to-day life. I miss it. Vengeful, I slit my eyes and stare around the garden for something to pain. Something to force and torture and terrorise. Yet, nothing ever appeases me.
And my thoughts are so irrational I want to pull my own brain out and eat it.
*
*
Psychosis: Revelations
*
Rat ta ta. Rrrrat ta ta. Tara tarah. Farrah sha la la la.
In the garden I stand while airing my hand and swiftly I call to the birds in the fall for what reason with all due respect I must stall while smacking the wall my face hidden in shawl and I call and I call and I call and I call and I call but to nothing at all.
Is a plant that isn't a tree but is taller than me still a shrub? It's some sort of exotic bush, as far as I can tell, the leaves are more solid and sharp. And as I stand beside it, just staring into the green, I press my left shoulder into one of the jaunting, stabbing leaves and attempt to break the skin with it. And rightly so. Why shouldn't I see what else in this world hates me?
But the leaf is weak. Weaker than I. It crumples and twists and flicks to my thigh.
I don't care. That's fine. It can reject me too like Leo did, and like those two girls are coming to do right now. Oh yes, I know they are, here they come, here they-
Closing my eyes, I wince and wait for them to appear, to yell at me with all their might or to simply put on brave faces and attempt to nice-talk me around into the sanitarium with their 'reason' and their 'negotiation' and their damn 'clarity'. They think I'll respond to that? Do they have the audacity to even believe I would consider listening to their pisstake of what humans should behave like? Humans shouldn't behave! Humans shouldn't be!
Nothing comes. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps they've given up on me fully. Perhaps I'll be left alone now.
"Piper?" comes a timid voice from behind me.
Perhaps I was wrong.
Spinning on my heels, I deliver a sharp smack to the jawline of the speaker. A whirl of red waves turning through the air alerts me as to who it was as the... younger of the girls, the milky-skinned one, slaps onto the ground, crying out more in shock than pain. I must've hit her harder than expected.
The other one's eyes become wild with fury, or fear, as she glances first at the girl on the ground, then into my eyes. I spark no recognition for her features. She throws a hand out, palm facing me, and goes into a defensive posture. "Piper," she begins in a calm warning voice, "just relax, okay? We're not gonna hurt you. Calm down and we won't hurt you, I swear."
My response to this reasonable, clarified negotiation is to once again twist my body around, this time bringing my leg up in order to connect it with the girl - Phoebe's - stomach. But my action is not unforseen.
Phoebe catched my leg and before I can react, turns my foot against the bone and forces me to spin with it. Before I know it, I'm lying face down in the dirt, and my sisters are bearing down on my back. Arms are ripped up from where they were sprawled in front of me and held taught behind my back, ligaments screaming and also my mouth.
"Get her indoors before the neighbours see!" Phoebe urges the redhead, and then that sickening feeling of orbing overcomes me as my vision goes white before we appear in my very own bedroom. But this time it is different.
As I writhe on the mattress and attempt to escape, the redhead punches my chin hard enough to daze me while they chain my hands and feet to the shackles now screwed onto the bedposts. "What are you doing?" I shriek in horror, truly terrified for my life.
No reply. Instead, once the job is done, they step back sweatily and admire their handiwork; their own sister bound to her bed, helpless and vulnerable. Their own blood twisting and writhing in rage, desperately attempting escape and for what? Amusement? Is that what I am? Just a toy for them to play with whenever boredom calls?
I turn around and pluck at a flower, a pink one with huge, billowing petals. It begins to grow and grow in my hand until soon its weight I cannot bear.
I wonder about my sisters, how I used to trust them, how I used to love them, and how they conspire to slaughter me. I consider the gore and horror that is my day-to-day life. I miss it. Vengeful, I slit my eyes and stare around the garden for something to pain. Something to force and torture and terrorise. Yet, nothing ever appeases me.
And my thoughts are so irrational I want to pull my own brain out and eat it.
*