01.06.2008
Kategorie "Trauer & Verzweiflung" (Kurzgeschichten in englischer Sprache)
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Teena Nagy

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It feels like my heart was gripped with a pair of pliers. It was squeezed and drained of its blood. Just like you would take a shirt; strain it and hang it out to dry. My mind was corrupted with images, images you can only hope to never have to imagine in your entire life. I wasn't able to stop this slide show. There was no pause, stop or eject. Only rewind and play. Everytme I tried to skip a scene, it went back to the same ones. Because of this, my heart started racing. I felt the erratic beating, pounding against my chest causing me to hyperventilate.

I wasn't familiar with these feelings. They were foreign to me. My body was trying to elimate them by turning itself inside out. I shook and sobbed uncontrollably, completely drenched in my own sweat and tears. As time passed, I calmed down a little; I just lied there, softly crying myself to sleep. It was probably the only way my mind could stop running for a short period of time. Since my brain was in overdrive, I was awoken by my thoughts

Then, Chaos waltzed in. It completely engulfed me in its darkness. It began to suffocate me, and my sobbing continued again. My body was covered in filth. I could feel it smudging my face and lips; blinding me. I could feel the thick grime spreading itself along my arms and legs, back and stomach. It took cover in my hair and in the nape of my neck. I never felt so dirty. I never felt so used.

I was in a room that had catered to my needs and right then and there I felt out of place, unwanted, unwelcome. I wasn't able to recognize myself. I felt completely worthless. I was proven to be "inadequate."

Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Teena Nagy.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 01.06.2008.

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