We must accept the things we cannot change. And let them change us.
a rather horrible piece of advice by someone who matters more than she will ever admit.
because what is her existence if she doesn't swallow down the poison.
spill a few prayers into the bathroom tile. tell them that you don't want to be like this anymore. you don't want to die. you don't want to rot. you don't want to have to keep fighting but if you don't, then what's left?
she's tired. she didn't think it was possible but she's almost too exhausted to pull herself from those arms that unknowingly cling around her. there's the sick thought of spilling her churning stomach onto the floor, simply because she's feeling far too pathetic to get up.
i.
but your throat is seizing up. your stomach constricting as if something is trying to climb its way through. there are many alternatives that you consider that are all temporary solutions for an ongoing problem.
death won't help.
you'll wake up and feel empty.
removing it won't do a damn thing.
how do you remove something you can't even see?
it's there. you know it's there. using your ribcage as a ladder, your spine as a crutch. as if it has some sort of weakness; how can it? it gnaws at you. tearing elongated teeth through your quiddity and swallowing it whole.
ii.
a heaving breath echoed down the hall. your feet have stopped but your hands are still searching. you fall into something --
it's the bathroom door and as you push it open, the House seems to shudder in anticipation. because it knows something you don't know. it knows what's growing inside of you, knows what it must do in order to set it free -- let it go. same difference in a case like this.
because you're going to grow. you're going to rise to become what is expected of you. meant for you. you can feel it wrapping its claws around you. digging itself in and slowly tearing you apart.
you don't even make it to the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl before you're on all fours.
iii.
dying can't be like this.
the walls are shaking. expanding. breathing while you attempt to get some air into your lungs (fabricated as they may be. you don't even need to breathe. your heart doesn't even need to beat, yet it does. it pounds in your chest). the thump, thump, thumpingechoing inside of your ears while it reverberates down your spine.
LET YOURSELF GO. LET YOURSELF HAVE THIS.
adapt. evolve. become.
into something mankind will never be able to hold. you wanted them on their knees, and you got it. you wanted them to beg for your mercy; as if you had any to begin with -- and it was yours. it will be yours but before it can be, you need to LET GO.
let the black spill. let it crawl up your throat, betweenneath your teeth. let it drip of your nose, fall from your eyes. let yourself choke on the bitter taste because it'll be the last thing that you remember. don't allow yourself to hang onto something so old and tattered, this is good for you. don't you see?
IGNORE HIM. IGNORE HIS VOICE. DON'T PAY ATTENTION. DON'T ----
HEAR THE DOORKNOB RATTLE.
NOTICE HOW WE'RE NOT LETTING
HIM IN. HE CAN HOLD YOU WHEN
WE'RE ALL DONE HERE. KEEP CALM.
iiii.
don't close your eyes. don't close your mouth. don't try to pretend that this is not happening. it's happening, whether you like it or not. whether you want it to be so, you will belong to it -- you will belong to us. look at everything with a sharper sight. watch the way what is left of you s c r e e c h e s and expands in the air (ignore the desperation in his voice as you let out a screech of your own).
the lights will flicker. the room with shake and the ground may feel like it's breaking beneath you (but that sound you're hearing is your bones, rubbing together and growing). blackened gusts surround you, desperate to find a way back in.
but you won't let it in. because you're changing and you don't need the weight of such a weakness to lay on brittle bones.
it'll pass onto another. like a disease. it will carry. it will find a host.
v.
look up. look back down. listen to the lock on the bathroom door click open. the House purrs in satisfaction, thanking you for allowing it to participate in such an important part of your once meaningless existence.
WE ARE HONORED. NOW S T A N D.
so you do. those same bare feet pressing against the floor as you lift yourself. your spine cracks; straighten it as it was meant to be. you wanted to stand like a warrior, you wanted to strike fear in the eyes of others and now you have your chance. you've been given an opportunity --
CONGRATULATIONS. YOU HAVE BECOME
WHAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE. THE
REST IS ENTIRELY UP TO YOU.
