Chapter Seven:
Materializing around the stature of my body was a bed that had tagging along with it, a gratifying comfort. Its size was enough to accommodate two but was clearly designed for one.
Becoming fixed was my position on my bed into one of sitting as what laid within my eye sockets observed a room tightly sealed with glass. I was in, what I assumed was a dome and along with that assumption came the creeping knowledge that spiked claustrophobia through my bloodstream.
Within my lungs were propelled seven consecutive breaths that were respectively hefty in size and then from that my eyelids peeled back to bring five holes on each wall into my awareness, placed in the effort of ventilating the room.
To the exterior of the dome, there was nothing but a dim light surrounding it, fading out into the void that was the night. The night was so heavy set in its pitch that you could see literally nothing beyond it.
I sought it out to be the perspective of someone driven by perpetual thoughts of suicide. The dimly set interior representing life slowly draining from the subject, the dome being the wall between life and death, the wall that was so clear it became completely transparent, and lastly, the dark exterior represented the fact that there was nothing left for them, nothing to really look forward to and that was devastating.
This trait was something I hated and admired most about myself, I could look at an object and compose the most devastating meaning it might have.
I hated it for obvious reasons; I admired it because devastation was such a beautiful thing once perspectives are shifted. To be primitive it pained, but to be a subject of evolution it became something seared in magnificence.
Adding atmosphere to the dome was an eery silence that prepossessed every nerve once governed by the structured system within me. The silence was so high in magnitude that I could hear the bloodstream within me almost in sync with my breathing. It was a silence that fell so predominant on my nerves that if a sound foreign to me were produced it would cause the skin to sear from my very bones.
Paranoia became an automatic response, like a bad habit I didn't actively choose to fall back on but still did. My head followed in no exact direction as it spun frantically to any surface it can cover.
I'm sure the view was horrifying, as, although I was afraid, I was severely drained, causing the muscles in my face to lose the strength to reflect this aversion.
Suddenly, becoming progressed along the freshly polished tiles was a reverberation, a reverberation that, to prediction, caused my flesh to peel from its place and fall smack beside me.
Desiring alignment with the sound was the sense of curiosity that seized my eyes. My mouth was set ajar as it was in great incoherence with the eyelids that were sent drooping down, meeting their respective partners all the while preserving their lopsided demeanors.
It was water. Simple water being gushed in from nowhere into where governed my mortified soul.
The water pressure was minuscule, and the tube to which it came was thin. It caused me to speak deeply in accordance with the voice in my head and when we both gathered nothing, a line became perceptible between my brows. But soon enough, the line blurred into my skin and not as a means of relaxation, but instead one of impotent awareness.
Sooner or later the air within the room would be replaced with water and I had not a single idea of what I set out on doing from that moment on. Did I mindlessly expect whatever this was to get easier with time? Especially given no notion or explanation as to why I was even there. I was fed up with feeling so lost; it itched every inch of my flesh with its irritant nature, leaving me annoyed each and every time.
I had to know something, anything, and suddenly, it hit me. The breathing holes, they were- nowhere to be seen?
"What the fuck?" I whispered in a tone I assumed was legible to only myself.
That was it. That was my last fucking straw. I just didn't have the energy left within me to save myself. I didn't and even with it, where has it really gotten me? Nowhere. No fucking where. I pushed through and I fought with everything I had and it was all for nothing.
Gravitating toward the bed was the temple that was guarded by conquered soul. Exhaustion poured through my nose in a drawn-out sigh. My head found the left just to see something much worse. The tube, it was much wider than before; the water pressure following suit with its taunting level. I became so numb to it that all I did was loosen my jaw in disbelief.
Idleness became the prime state in which my mind accommodated and only then, did two cameras become allowed into my field of consciousness. Two cameras that stood stationed at the left and right corners of the enclosure.
Becoming the shape of respective perfect orbs were the eyes that were of my own possession. Why did they widen to fit that description? Because by the time they met the floor, they found the level rising at a ridiculous pace. It was enough to reach your ankles in seconds.
Filling my ears was the sound of the air rapidly emptying from the dome, leaving me with the option of fighting, flighting, or just giving in. And of course, I chose the last. Settling into the comfort of the bed and shutting my eyes until I felt the cold of the water seep through the sheets, prompting my body to sink into the mattress.
Neglection became the central state of my mind at that moment until the point where the water engulfed my mouth. Even then, for a few seconds, I laid there despite my lungs desperately clawing at my limbs to respond. They gave in for nothing until I could feel the pressure begin to steam up within my body.
Ripping from its place was the stationary position my body was in just so that an insurmountable amount of oxygen can be guzzled up from every corner my vacuum can possibly reach.
My eyes snapped open, granting the water to slide fountains down the sides of my face, momentarily gluing the peach fuzz to my skin.
I took a few minutes to establish a healthy breathing pattern and from that, my eyes shot from one corner of the room to the very next.
A distance came between my both hands. I used it to slick back the stringy chunks of hair that threatened to stick to my face.
Suddenly, awareness, like a thick plastic, fastened itself onto my face to suffocate me. The dome was becoming filled at such a rapid pace that I could have already felt the discomfort that was drowning.
Using that as a source of motivation, my once placid stature found itself before one of the five walls, prepared to peel the skin of my knuckles into throbbing rolls of flesh in an attempt at relief from this dome of depression.
First, I took a light swing to measure its density. It seemed tough, yet somewhat fragile. Second, I followed with a more powerful strike, allowing my fist to bounce back with friction as the glass was left without an itch. And third, I punched with as much might as I could gather at the moment, causing my teeth to bare with a sharp breath of agony somehow seeping through them.
I waved my hand in an unconscious attempt to soothe the pain that came in waves throughout my soul, then finally searched the room for something else to use in order to break the glass.
By that moment, the water was slowly creeping up my waist, its atoms long, clinging to my thighs and hips. Using my eyes to peer for assistance, they found not a single thing that can be used to break free. The only thing that had somewhat of hope were my fists, so I punched.
I punched, ignoring the waves of pain that shot itself from my knuckles to pulsate throughout the vastness of my soul. I punched, ignoring the flight response cues that tried exploiting my teenage brain into submission. And I punched, ignoring the scent of blood that ran predominantly in my airways, the dome wall before me becoming stained with essences of my DNA as my vision became blurred with the tears that reflected the pain darting through every inch of my being.
I ceaselessly gritted my teeth, all bared for the darkness to scrutinize. The sounds of my grunting and groans blaring despite me trying to suppress their audibility.
Encompassing every new blow that I delivered was a fresh dose of power, power that to this day I stay uninformed to of its origin, power that then seemed foreign due to the drained state I experienced moments earlier. Despite all this, the wall ceased to falter to anywhere near my level of strength.
The primate urge to survive against all odds became the principal feeling that detonated all other feelings outside of itself to null and, even as the water produced resistance, I pushed through.
Agony threaded itself through my body like a spider would weave its web, touching every inch of me and spreading out to release itself in any form, be that tears or grunts.
It seemed as if the water had a brain with set motives to consume the entire scope of the dome, devouring chips and pieces of my hope along with it until it ran completely out of existence. And finally, through all that, I gave in, my fingers throbbing numb as I dove into the water, seeking submission to one's fate.
I held onto the bed's feet that, for some reason, stayed stationed on the ground, my cheeks filled with air moments before I allowed them to swim bubbles toward the surface. I watched the air as they seeped through tiny creeks at the top, wishing I, too, could obtain something as precious as liberation.
Due to the oxygen or lack thereof, my mind felt as if there was a drum being banged audaciously within. The muscles around my eyes losing their ability to activate, allowing them to droop shut when out of nowhere like a hit of epinephrine, panic spiked adrenaline through my bloodstream, causing my eyes to snap back open.
I managed to propel myself to the very surface of the dome where the water was leaking. If there had creaks to allow water through, it should be the dome's weakest point. I striked , and I striked and I striked and of course, it was the weakest point, and I could see I made progress, but with the amount of energy and strength I had left within me, I just couldn't.
With scars becoming of my irritated eyes and my fists thrumming silently beyond my lack of breath, the only thing I could do that didn't even seem like much of a choice anymore was to succumb.
The feeling, it was uncomfortable, one in which another could never just get used to, but I accepted my fate. I glared through a blurred vision and simply accepted this for exactly what it was.
I knew I would come back for some reason, so the problem wasn't dying. It was just that all this pain, once again, was all for nothing. I closed my eyes. All for nothing. But maybe that was... okay. Maybe there is a reason for all of this, just maybe one day... I'd get it.
Trust me, if I had the breath I would sigh, but I didn't, so I just did it in my head and called it a day.
I thought about the stars and their beauty. It was supposed to be the gentle thoughts before my death, but this death... it never came.
The dome exploded, due to what I now assume was the building pressure, sending my body sliding onto the grass, the grass that crept thousands of miles beyond my sight.
I laid there for some time, wheezing and coughing on my side, shuddering at the slightest wind that waltzed upon my skin. Wavering from my body were the shivers that emitted into the atmosphere and brought a cloud of vulnerability to hug my small frame.
I hugged my legs and laid against my knees, endeavoring deep breathing exercises to have somewhat of control over the situation.
For but a single moment, I rose slightly and peered into the view surrounding me. When I was met with more uncertainty, I referred back to the nurturing air, relishing in the soothing feeling of it healing my oxygen-deprived lungs.
Out of nowhere, there came the sound of footsteps crunching against the grass. My eyes developed curiosity, thus I turned, allowing a pair of black boots to fall right into sight. The boots -- the black boots, they were all I could see, the lights way too far and dim to offer any assistance, the position I lay in making it not even a bit easier as the figure appeared to be a shadow wearing a red cloak and boots.
I managed to make out voluminous locks of hair that flowed from a waterfall down the shoulders of the person. Hair as black as the night -- hair that reached the hip of their frame -- the frame that seemed feminine.
"Can you... help me?" I asked in the highest volume my hoarse voice could emit.
It was as if my words became lost in the wind, drifting away in a boat into the stream of wind that lifted leaves of many diverging kinds into the heavens. Maybe that was it, maybe the person couldn't catch the words before they flew away.
An automatic response took place. I'd-I'd just repeat, but as my lips parted to do just that, the sight of something like a weapon being held over the shoulder of this mysterious person became more than perceptible.
They looked down at me, their silky waves of ebony flourishing sensationally into the breeze as they hoisted this weapon into the ether, right before swinging it toward my face.
The last thing I got to do was a sigh as after that was smack, followed by the splattering and mushing sounds of my brain becoming mixed in with the dirt that sat placidly and silently beneath us.
 Author's note
"𝐀𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐀𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐚." - 𝐖𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚
𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 (𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟); 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞) 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.
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𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰.
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