I have never felt comfortable in my skin, nor do I think I ever will. Among my peers, I am friendly - confident even. However, are we only what we present to the world? I do not believe in making inferences about people because if I am confused about what I am, what do my peers think of themself? My ripped jeans expose my legs, my plaid shirt unbuttoned - acting almost like a cape with how it floats so effortlessly around me. I am wearing a plain white shirt; it contrasts nicely against my tanned skin.
I walk through the cafeteria like a ghost, a soul controlling a meat bag. They all eat, talk, and draw. Could I be doing these things with other people right now? Yes. I could do that - but on this day, I feel no desire to interact with anyone. My social battery is dead, and I need to escape this cafeteria. I want to leave and listen to my music. Music is the only thing I want to hear right now. My stomach feels tight hearing everyone speak - every voice is someone doing better than me.
There is no desire to change or evolve as a person. I have no interest in becoming more extroverted, but I have no interest in becoming more introverted. I am me. I am the one with no desires. I wobble when I walk. I look out of sync, which is a fair assessment of my ability to move from one place to another. I am nearly there now. I am almost out of this cafeteria. My left kneecap is throbbing slightly, a slight tick-tick-tick feeling. I must be growing. I like some of these people. I do not like all of them, though. People have more to say than me. I am like a little leaf swaying in the wind.
Out of this cafeteria, the halls are as busy as the cafeteria, which I just left. Many boys look at me, and some don't even look. I try to be invisible and just exist. Is that so hard? I ask myself as I watch these people walk by me and pass me. My feet are in the way, and I cannot keep up. This school is just a box. That is all it is. It is just a box. All the school is a box. No one is special. No one is anything special. They are just people. I am a person. I am a person who just is a person. I am just sitting in the middle of this hallway, watching the people walk past me.Ā
"Loretta?" A voice echoed in my ear - One IĀ“ve never heard before. "Loretta~?" The Voice was more playful now. It pulsated in my ear, scraping every hair follicle. The Voice was not in my head. I could feel its hot breath on my neck; it smelled of black coffee and cigarettes. I have never felt more inhuman than its hot, cigarette breath on my neck. The feel was as if someone rubbed a sponge on your arm, except for maggots and nails.
"Loretta, I must know - What do you want?" I knew that my voice was too hollow and raspy. It lacked the humanity it once possessed - But perhaps I am no longer a human, am I?Ā
A hand slowly squirmed across my vision, a red leather-like skin to a red reptilian-esque body formed - a man, a blood crimson - otherworldly, almost incomprehensible - an angel damned by God. He raised himself in a sluggish motion. It was beautiful, almost.Ā His skin scar tissue riddled his form, from his knees to his neck. He wore a blue suit with white pinstripes and a pair of brown gloves.Ā
He walked with a hunchback, but this was perhaps the only thing that made him human. His back twisted in a way so uncomfortable I could feel myself frowning. He whispered a series of clicks. They were hard to understand, for his voice garbled through saliva and blood in a way no human would. "Come with me, come with me."Ā He coughed once, and a large amount of blood appeared on his lips and chin - "Come with me~!"
"Where?" I asked, and before I could even realize it, he responded. "Come with me~ You will understand~" His words were a blur that echoed in the winds of nightmares. He reached for a crooked finger and placed it on my forehead - this finger was a bony claw, a spiked protrusion that almost pierced my forehead. His claw-like finger almost touched my skull but was not there. In its place was a small piece of black metal with a sharp edge that pierced through anything - flesh, blood, marrow.
The man did not respond. But he did not need to. A deep, dark pain that I have always felt. It was a pain I once felt when I was younger. My skull felt as if it splattered a thousand times, for it was.
Ā "Ah. I see." His mouth was full of blood, and he coughed once.
I could feel it all - Everything. I felt my skin and bone, muscles and ligaments - Every fiber of my body. It all felt so familiar. It was the only time I have felt as if I could live forever, and it was such an odd experience. I have died a thousand times, yes, it's true, but this does not feel like it. It's too much. Too many things felt too familiar. It was a nightmare I could not shake. I can feel my skull, my bones, my brain.Ā
My whole body began to stiffen. I felt a slight tingling throughout my limbs - My left limb first, and then the rest followed suit - I could not feel my hands or legs. It's like my body is moving - but not me. A tingling sensation like I was going into a coma, almost, but not exactly - a pain I cannot describe, so strange and terrifying. I had no idea what to make of it, but I knew this wasn't a death, was it? Death is a beautiful thing, isn't it?Ā
A scream, not a human scream. A death scream, something inhuman, not from the lips or mouth, from the guts. Deep, screaming, painful - Something I cannot explain. It's some sort of painful death scream that tears up something in me that I cannot explain - Strange - Not loud, just - odd. It's as if the sound did not escape from my lips. It was too silent.
This monster - It's beating with me. My heart was strange - Not beating. It was pounding, pounding - Something else. It's like we're dancing together - Inhuman, yet we're the same. Our arms move in unison in the same way.Ā
My blood stained my pants, it's dark, it's black - It stains the ground. It feels as if I am alive, but my heart, my heart - It's not beating. It's pounding, it's pounding - It feels like it's moving in my chest, in my skullĀ - In my whole body. I am not moving - Picking me up by the arms and dragging me somewhere. It was disfigured and dark - The knife was an extension - No arms and no legs.
I want this to end, for it to mean something. A sudden jarring pain, I fell. He grabbed me unnaturally - Arms wide. He dragged me across the room, I fought, I struggled, I tried to break free, but I could not. My body was screaming at me to wake up. My heart was thumping. The thing is, I never would. He gored into me in every way imaginable. Blood poured out of me in crimson - Running down my leg. He looked so out of this world that I could hardly tell what was happening. He continued his sadistic behavior with more and more pain.
He began ripping me apart. All I could do was scream. I don't even know if anyone could hear me. My screams were silent. I could not even cry. I was so distraught. My world went black, and I could see nothing. I could not see anything. Then - Silence.