Tag Archives: dark

Trigger

The sharp air fills my lungs, and my heart jumps to attention. The thrill pumps through my veins, electrifying my skin, the tips of every corner and curve and end of my body tingle in terrified exhilaration.

‘No!’ I scream inside my head because the words won’t leave my tongue – but too late; it’s already done.

I feel my body giving in to them, I cannot stop it, and soon my mind will be swept away as well. The tears come, hot and heavy. They sting my gaping, parched eyes.

The memories stir. The world fades away from my blurred sight and the monsters creep from the shadows. I try to remember what to do, but they swallow me whole. The world is gone. I am gone. There is nothing but the memory, the pain, the fear and torment. I scream, but it does not chase them away. Still, they come.

My body shudders under the strain of their burden. I don’t want to see them anymore, I don’t want to remember. I huddle in the darkness they brew and try to hide, small and insignificant – like nothing they would waste such time with, but still, they come. My sobs come in silent, shallow gulps and the heaves turn and knot my stomach. Already, the bitter sting of bile rises in my throat.

The realization washes over me: There is no running. There is no hiding. And something lulls me in knowing this. A slow calm sets into my bones. This is it. It is over – but I know it will not end unless I turn around.

Weak and shaky, I stand to face them. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. I train my lips into the tight little O, and the breaths come, fast at first. I take in another, fighting off the mucus my tears have churned up in my sinuses, but I manage through the fight. Out again. Oooooo. Slow, steady, long.
I close my eyes, focus on my breathing. In. Steady, hold. Out, easy, free…
My feet shuffle in controlled movements, turning me to face them, one breath at a time. The pain subsides. My skin begins to soothe, muscles relax, and my stomach unties itself. The burning, prickling sensation evaporates.
In.
Steady.
Out.
Calm.
My mind escapes the fog. I start to remember – more than just the monsters. I remember after. I remember now. I am ready.
I open my eyes to face them.

Shadows dance across my bedroom floor. The moon hangs high, and sky is crystal clear. The air is cold and still. A cold sweat hangs dewy over my body. My shirt clings to my skin, the hair matted to the nape of my neck and face. I stare about, confused, but familiar. I unclench from the knotted covers, stretching my hand and wriggling my fingers. I blink away the last hazy images, trying to reorient myself.
It is over.
Relief.
I made it out. I ended it.
Little Victories, Dr. Meade would say. And I smile, little and weak. But better than yesterday.