It burns my insides but I roll onto my side to prevent asphyxia anyway.Coughing, the pulse of my heart pounds outside of my head, pained from the agonizing minutes of deprivation.Once I make it to my feet, overhead lights brighten like the final boss has retreated and I’m safe once more.But her uncanny growls start again and I bolt.Snatching my stuff from the table top, I rush to the door without looking back.
Bursting into my apartment, I drop everything, shuffle down the long hallway to the main area and cross it to my room.I need my pills.The demon tailed me all the way home.I could hear her in the squeak of my shoes and honk of cars as they whipped by.Rushing past windows and doors wasn’t any better; her shadow loomed on my back, our eyes meeting in the reflections when doors swung open in front of me.
Tumbling into the ensuite, the counter catches me by the hips, digging into the thin skin while my shaking hands fumble for the Risperdal.The last few tablets clatter inside of the orange container helplessly—I’m getting low and can’t get a refill until I see Mr.Kensington again, fucking great.
Counting them out—only five left—I pop two and chew.Fuck drinking water, I need them in me now and not thirty minutes from now when they finally dissolve.Lithium is next.Pulling the capsule apart, the contents pour into the space under my tongue.It’s bitter and jarring, pure chemical twang, but will absorb faster there.
Mulling outside of the bathroom door, my demon snarls, sniffs, and claws where the carpet and tile meet—fuck, I hope she doesn’t dig through.Watching the door, the wood flexes with inhuman breaths, pushing and pulling as my mind spirals out of control.
I’m terrified, I know this; trapped in a world too dark to compete with.Shit likeAlice in Wonderlandor that weird-ass flying bed—Adventures of Little Nemo—movie would be heaven sent right now.This is real, devouring every sense I have.
BANG!
A yelp screams past my lips and I shrink back, ceiling debris rain down as carnage rocks the supporting frame—shaking what’s left of my mental stability.I can’t stay here.Bolting, my shoes slap on the tile one, two, three times then fall silent when they hit the carpet in my closet.
I don’t have a whole lot of clothes in here so they’re localized in the furthest back corner—the only place I feel like I can burrow and still feel safe enough to survive whatever’s about to breach the wood.My poor tattered clothes are the last barricade between me and the darkness.
Another loud bang precedes a scrape of claws and clenched fists rapidly slamming into the door.Tears sting my eyes, knowing my time is running out.
I can’t do this.I don’t know where I went wrong with the meds; this hasn’t happened for years and my childhood before then.The memories of my adoptive father’s shouts join the demon’s—bickering and scolding me.Promising to rip me out of my hiding space for something as meaningless as a few tears.Covering my ears, I slip back into that house.
“You worthless girl!”Daddy shouts at me, then looks over to Momma and points at her.“You did this.You just had to have a child when we were perfectly fine!We could go and do as we please, have friends over at a moment's notice, go to the ballet that you always complain about.Now we have to find a babysitter who doesn’t get the creeps long enough for us to be out on the town!This is your fault!Never should have let you talk me into buying some knock-off-brand kid.Look at her, she doesn’t even look like us, the least you could have done is picked one that looked remotely like us.But, no.You chose this… ghost!”
Clawing my nails into the back of my ears, my head shakes, body rocking to and fro while the demon replays the worst memories.Her lies mimicking the same angry shouts that would drag me out of my dreams and the cries I’d wail until the sun finally rose.
“Don’t call her that!She didn’t choose this, or her parents.Blaming a child for things she cannot control does nothing to fix us, Carl!You should be ashamed of yourself, putting the weight of our failing marriage on her.”
“And you didn’t, Victoria?You bought her to fix a problem we didn’t have.A Band-Aid in hopes we would last past seven years.What a damn joke.”
“Don’t…don’t say that.You know she would have ended up in the system like all the other kids do, she deserved a chance.”
“A chance at what, exactly?”
“Life!”
“Has it ever occurred to you that some kids are better off dead!”
Hot breath blows through my untamed hair, steaming at the side of my neck and ear.I’m frozen, cowering in the smallest space I can fathom, losing myself to round after round of panic.
Hurry… please hurry.I beg for the Risperdal and Lithium to kick in, to poison my blood stream and put me under where there’s no demons, pain, or hatred.Where the little girl inside of me can run free and swing her arms and legs in the sunshine.Instead, I cry, sobs wrecking me.
Fingers hook under my chin and lift where empty black eyes score mine and I come face to face with my puppet master.Her onyx fingers skirt over the pale strands of my eyebrows, then her thumb brushes away tears to lick from her smooth thumb print.She’s hope and a calamity parading around as my savior.
Lowly, two words numb my terror.
Sleep, child.
Chapter twelve
Sunshine
It’sbeentwodays.No three.Maybe four, I don’t know.
I doubled up on all of my medication except the sleep aid, because I can’t let the demon come for me in the middle of the night.Once my brain found the correct train track, I finally felt relief.That was until my brain hit the clouds and I became weightless.
I like it this way—don’t tell anyone.There are no words to describe how foggy the thoughts become.They weave in and out of focus, blurring with the surroundings as if I’m looking through someone else's damaged eyes; losing what little sight they have left.Half the time they barely exist—random words and fleeting thoughts thrown out into the swirling bowl of brain soup.
Yeah, having control over your own mind is nice and all, but so is the solace that comes from giving up.That’s exactly where I’m at now.My Risperdal is gone; two days of double doses has left the container dryer than the Sahara.There’s plenty of Lithium though—a ninety-day supply is quite handy in instances like these.There’s no need to rush to the shrink and spill my emulsified guts over the cheap upholstery of his lounges and fake crystal glassware retaining stale water.
