A/N - In my defense I wrote this story while being seriously depressed, so if it doesn't make sense to you, shrug, well that's my mind for you. Who the story is about you can deside for your self (although if you check my other stories it's quite obvious who I'm picturing) and there aren't any spoilers for any of the books.

This has not been beta read, since I don't have beta at the moment. Fell up for the job? Send me and e-mail and I'll get back to you!

Disclaimer - I own nothing but my own mind and what it comes up with!

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The Point of Screaming

The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven.

- John Milton

The walls are closing in on me, sufficating me, and I shake my head to tell them to back of, but yet they come even closer. "No, no, no. . ." I cry, but they don't leave me alone. I sink to the ground, my knees no longer able to support my shaking body, and the cold stone floor is just so hard and I don't want to be here anymore! My fists beat against the ground, hard and ruthlessly and even harder, and I pretend that I don't hear the sickening cracks as the bones in my hands breaks, or that I don't see the bloodstains on the floor.

"Make it stop," I whisper, wanting it to be a shout but not able to muster the strenght for it as my fists continue to beat against the cold floor. "Please, make it stop!"

I fall forward, my bloody hands gone numb at my sides, and hit my head against the floor. The walls crep a little closer, shutting me in a little tighter in this private hell, and I beg with all my heart, all my soul, that they would not. I pull my knees up and hug them tight against my chest, closing my eyes and trying to make the tears stop flowing, but they won't stop. Please, why won't it stop?

Blood rushes in my ears, drowning out all other sounds, and the cold and the shadows creep over my body, and still the walls come closer for every second that passes. I scrap desperatly at the floor, scrap and claw and beat and hit, and my hands get bloodier and the ground still looks the same and why can't I get out? Why does the wall slide closer and why can't I see a door and why doesn't the ground break like my heart does?

My lips tremble and everything hurts and I wish I wasn't alone. I wish someone would come and help me, stop the walls from closing in and the coldness to take over my body and banish the shadows back to the corners where they belong, but instead I am the one hinding in the corner and, oh God, I feel them laughing at me! Make them stop!

I want the light, and I want the warmth and I want the open sky, and please take me away! My heart aches with sorrow and my soul screams in despair and all I can do is cry, and cry, and cry, and why won't it all end? Why can't the darkness leave me alone, stop hunting me, stop trying to drag me down deeper in to the darkness I feel hidden deep down in my soul? I don't want to feel that darkness, it scares me, and when everything else is so horrible why should my soul have to be it too? Please, stop digging! Leave me alone!

My bleeding hands cover my face as my mouth desperatly tries to form words of salvation, and still my body shakes and the walls come closer and everything hurts and, please, get me out of here!

And all I want to do is scream, scream so hard my lungs burn and my throat hurt and the walls shake and the shadows shiver and finally someone sees me and rescues me from this hell hole. I want to scream until the world, the universe, the Gods themself hear me and sees my pain and makes it all go away. I want to scream so loud the very earth will tremble and the walls will fall away and the sky and the stars will open up to me.

But then the pain takes over again, and my throat does hurt but it haven't formed any words, and the walls and the shadows and the cold is mocking me, seeing me as the weak one that I am, and I know I won't escape because they won't let me.

And all I can do is cry because what is the point of screaming when no one will listen anyway?

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