Tuesday, August 08, 2006
She did not know that she was crying---it was foreign to her. Only that a salty liquid was flowing out of her eyes, down her cheeks, and each painful, wracking sob that threatened to simultaneously squeeze her into an atom and tear her apart, all at once.
She clutched at her chest, unknowing, unseeing, as yet another choked breath forced its way out of her throat. Her shoulders shivered with each surge, sending a fresh wave of tears to ebb out from eyes wide shut.
She was on her knees---had once been standing, but somewhere along the way the strength in her legs gave out, and she had collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings, limp and boneless, eyes vacant and shimmering with the sparkle of liquid rising behind the dam.
She no longer knew what was happening, only that there was pain, and the action of crying was perpetuating the agony. She clutched at her chest, fingers hooked and clawing at the breast, as if by some sheer force of will she would dig the infection within her heart out, and cease the suffering she so loathed. It was futile, she knew it was futile, but it did not keep her from want of trying, for it took her mind off that terrible pain.
She shuddered with each heaving gasp, her chest constricting and expanding painfully, as if each agonising nerve was on fire with every movement, and she could barely breathe, her nose clogged full up with a thick substance, cutting off the passage of air. Breath was stolen through a limp mouth, a dark red hole, the edges trembling and slick with saliva, giving it almost an appearance of a wound---gaping open without treatment or remedy.
She did not know what drove her to weep like this. She did not know tears. She was brought up not to know pain, and yet pain she was feeling now, and she could not comprehend it. Where were her advisors, her helpers, her friends? Why were they no longer there to explain this new phenomenon to her? She felt as if her heart would break, torn and shred apart by the sheer force being exacted on it from within and out, and only the barest of self-awareness kept her from writhing like some unborn slug on the floor, curling and thrashing in the relentless assault of pain.
She did not understand. Why would it not stop? The pain had to be driven away. It was a foreign entity, an enemy, and it had no place within her. She must drive it away, by the strength of her own two hands, without help from others. In a bleak moment of realisation, she discovered she could not call upon others, could no longer rely on the services of others to save her, and that this battle was hers alone to fight.
She was alone, and a fresh wave of tears gushed out of red-rimmed eyes. Holding back the nausea with the last shred of her willpower, she steeled herself, reached deep within herself to turn off the waterworks, though the choked sobs that emanated still from her throat took far longer to subside. With a methodical certainty spurred on by the singularity of purpose, she fought down that alien creature known as Pain, kicked at it, shoved it, beat it up, and finally booted it into some remote corner, before closing and locking the door. As an afterthought, she walled it over and put thick, heavy chains across, so that it could not burst out to hurt her again.
She was done, Pain was gone. The tears were gone. But her strength did not come back. She had expended too much into the battle, and now she did not know where she was or what she was to do. Confusion filled her; where was she? Who was she? Exhaustion overcame her senses, and she fell...
...into the Pit. There was no more tears there, no pain, no sorrow. Only unending oblivion, and as time passed, layer after layer of sediment covered the Pit, obscuring it from view. Still she slept, safe in that dark womb of nothingness, away from Pain, her enemy. She would not wake, not now, not until her strength returned to her. And still the walls grew, until to stone it turned, and none could see nor even remember that girl who once was safe, happy and free.
==================================================================================
I blame the KnM ending song, agony, for the source of inspiration for this.
]
She clutched at her chest, unknowing, unseeing, as yet another choked breath forced its way out of her throat. Her shoulders shivered with each surge, sending a fresh wave of tears to ebb out from eyes wide shut.
She was on her knees---had once been standing, but somewhere along the way the strength in her legs gave out, and she had collapsed like a puppet cut from its strings, limp and boneless, eyes vacant and shimmering with the sparkle of liquid rising behind the dam.
She no longer knew what was happening, only that there was pain, and the action of crying was perpetuating the agony. She clutched at her chest, fingers hooked and clawing at the breast, as if by some sheer force of will she would dig the infection within her heart out, and cease the suffering she so loathed. It was futile, she knew it was futile, but it did not keep her from want of trying, for it took her mind off that terrible pain.
She shuddered with each heaving gasp, her chest constricting and expanding painfully, as if each agonising nerve was on fire with every movement, and she could barely breathe, her nose clogged full up with a thick substance, cutting off the passage of air. Breath was stolen through a limp mouth, a dark red hole, the edges trembling and slick with saliva, giving it almost an appearance of a wound---gaping open without treatment or remedy.
She did not know what drove her to weep like this. She did not know tears. She was brought up not to know pain, and yet pain she was feeling now, and she could not comprehend it. Where were her advisors, her helpers, her friends? Why were they no longer there to explain this new phenomenon to her? She felt as if her heart would break, torn and shred apart by the sheer force being exacted on it from within and out, and only the barest of self-awareness kept her from writhing like some unborn slug on the floor, curling and thrashing in the relentless assault of pain.
She did not understand. Why would it not stop? The pain had to be driven away. It was a foreign entity, an enemy, and it had no place within her. She must drive it away, by the strength of her own two hands, without help from others. In a bleak moment of realisation, she discovered she could not call upon others, could no longer rely on the services of others to save her, and that this battle was hers alone to fight.
She was alone, and a fresh wave of tears gushed out of red-rimmed eyes. Holding back the nausea with the last shred of her willpower, she steeled herself, reached deep within herself to turn off the waterworks, though the choked sobs that emanated still from her throat took far longer to subside. With a methodical certainty spurred on by the singularity of purpose, she fought down that alien creature known as Pain, kicked at it, shoved it, beat it up, and finally booted it into some remote corner, before closing and locking the door. As an afterthought, she walled it over and put thick, heavy chains across, so that it could not burst out to hurt her again.
She was done, Pain was gone. The tears were gone. But her strength did not come back. She had expended too much into the battle, and now she did not know where she was or what she was to do. Confusion filled her; where was she? Who was she? Exhaustion overcame her senses, and she fell...
...into the Pit. There was no more tears there, no pain, no sorrow. Only unending oblivion, and as time passed, layer after layer of sediment covered the Pit, obscuring it from view. Still she slept, safe in that dark womb of nothingness, away from Pain, her enemy. She would not wake, not now, not until her strength returned to her. And still the walls grew, until to stone it turned, and none could see nor even remember that girl who once was safe, happy and free.
==================================================================================
I blame the KnM ending song, agony, for the source of inspiration for this.
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