[trigger warning] broken - black (1)
a strange entity walked down the hallway, different voices of different ages and genders played from it and was always cut off, it sounded like an old radio. static filled and worn.
its eyes were blank. just static moving and flodding around. it had a large inhumane grin across its face, all black, no hilights no shadow. just a plain shadow. it looked unreal yet it was there. it let a hand touch the wall, let the fingers caress the wall as it dragged its hand when it walked.
it was looking up. but in a distant half here half not here.
black marks were left from its feet, but slowly faded.
it didn’t remember. it didn’t know. it realized that. tried to think , tried to know, tried to re-call, tried to remember.
memories slowly floded back in slowmotion, like whatever held them away was making sure it caught every single detail.
these weren’t a mix of good, bad, grey-zone memories, like a life would be filled with. no.
these were memories given back only to embarrass. only to let it cringe, writhe and cry in despise that it ever happened. it stopped in its tracks, black painted her skin. not wet, but as if the color of the skin just changed. it looked like cracks.
it silently cried out, since it did not have recordings of someone’s cry. it had intentionally forgotten.
yes, forgotten...
it remembers now why it didn’t remember those memories. its the only ones it has left of herself, let its a part it would rather die then have back.
her scars stung in a painful way. though it was comforting. a gentle reminder of a way to cope. its way to cope.
it pulled out a knife that it didn’t remember taking or ever having lifted it up with the blade pointed inwards.
splaaat- craack- splut-
it had buried the knife in its throat- letting blood drip down its skin, smearing all over. letting the blood drip in her thorat and choke her. but yet she didn’t gag. nothing happened. her back leaned back. she looked up straight at the ceiling, letting her arms hang back.
it stood there for a while. it couldn’t tell the time. its like she heard steps, then a gasp and a thud. but it couldn’t tell if it was real, a hallusination, or blot its own recordings played out in its own broken way.
hm...yes. broken.
who broke it? who dropped it and let it shatter apart. who let its own peices dissapear and become forgotten?
it didn not remember. but the only thing itn knew, or remembered was its way to cope, and the emotional pain of the past.
it thought for a secon d it was moving. but it wasn’t itself that caused that? no,. someone was dragging.
but was it just the memories making it feel this way, or was it actually happening? it couldn’t tell.
then it was lying down. the pain was gone. blackness didn’t enter its vision just yet. the knife was gone.
did someone remove it? or did it never actually stab itself? it couldn’t tell.
a warm, but weak feeling rushed over its arm. it jolted and pushed away.
it had never felt warmth. never felt coldness. or had it, and it had just forgotten?
it didn’t know. something soft was around her throat. this was all new feelings, and it felt over stimulated. it moved its hand out and around, in searh for something sharp. an object touched its fingertips. it jolted its hand away in surprise, but let the hand make its way back and picked it up. it was a long sharp metallic object.
it pressed it into the base of the neck. only static flooded out its mouth, as the overwhelming sentsation of this new, mind-blowing thing dissapeared. at least for a moment. just a moment. it relaxed, pushed itself out on the floor, lying on its back, starring at the ceiling, black static entered its vision, and its eyes turned blue for a breif second, and then black.
it was asleep?
it was carried top the bed again, taken care of.