mood. volatile. unpredictable. emotional. virulence.
age. 18/19
Muffled cries sink deep dread like a brick down your esophagus in what is supposed to be a vacant house. Prudence is key. Seek curiously and unfortunate opportunity may find an innocent soul.
The Red Flags of alarm, they sail and flail high, striving for attention, but persist unwitnessed.
There is a lithe shape standing in the middle of the hall. Inch closer and your vision adjust. It is a woman suffering through chronic cycles of misery. Unbeknownst to you, apathy had crumbled under the weight of despair.
She grieves until a creek of old wood alarms her of you. Soon, rage erupts violently. Her eyes burn like coals. Ire twists her face until her jaw gives an audible crack and juts unnaturally. She, the harbinger of absolute demise, reaches out and dives for you. Slices of her, neither tied by strings nor flesh, drag across the floor in rapid speed. It takes seconds to decide as fear paralyzes you and when you do, it is far too late. She is upon you and your guts spill at your feet.
premise: the spirit cycles through the five stages of grief.
denial. she denies her father’s corruption and the tragic remains of her mother. she denies her own death and her own awakening.
bargaining. she wants her life restored the way it was. she cries for the ignorance and innocence she once had. in retrospect, she feels accountable for it all.
depression. this is a constant state, one that sinks in between her repudiation and guilt. guilt hangs heavy, she blames herself for not earning enough, for wanting an education, for not exceeding at her academics even when poured her absolute best, for not coming home earlier, for not saving her mother.
acceptance. it is the precipice. accepting who she is and what happened. accepting her mission to unleash upon the rest.
anger. and at this very conclusion, unadulterated anger surfaces, rationally directed at her father, but irrationally directed to those who are more fortunate that she is. memories of that night surface along the way, first, becoming the fuel for her fire as she preys upon the condemn. after it all, silence beckons her to deny her circumstances once more.
