Inhaling is the Easy Part


Inhaling is the easy part. As these stained fingers crawl towards my gasping lips, there is an irrefutable shaking. My sour tongue has never felt an evil so calming. It is simply a need of nothing more than to stop the constant ringing in my broken mind. Torturing my lungs, they let out a violent cry so genuine and true, that I can’t help but to feel a sense of remorse. It was never meant to be this way.

However, in this new body there is an overwhelming sense of beauty that overcasts this dwelling beast. It silently purses its face into a pointed sculpture. Grey with a filter only god could create.

Its eyes are my favorite. Despite the discoloration of its face, those glass marvels expel a green so warm that you would swear you had just woken up in a forest; a rain forest. The afternoon mist shadows the life within its bounds. Regardless of the innocent creatures beneath its umbrella, the rain takes over, now pouring down on its past, light, darkness, and hope for a new future. Water only makes the forest appear stronger, for now every inch of life has a glow equivalent to millions of diamonds. Those rainforest eyes are the one thing that appears to breathe life in this cold monster’s body.

Reaching to bestow the warmth from my dilapidated fingers, I extend them towards the beast. It is an offer so pure that refusal is impossible. With concentration befallen upon the corners of its sickly mouth, I inch my way towards it, now raised upon my knees. Eyes that had resembled a towering rainforest only a moment ago had now fallen under a trance; locked with my soul.  I try to break the spell, but the hold is growing stronger. I scream in sweet agony as I desperately try to look away. The gray grabs hold of me and spins me around. Dreary thoughts echo in my mind. A sour taste echoes in my throat. Tears bursting from my eyes as I try to expulse this demon from my presence. All I ever wanted to be was happy!


Rouge, scarlet, burgundy, crimson, they all swirl around the delicate lids of my distorted eyes. Somehow, the grey that had haunted me is gone now. I can feel the warmth rising again. It is rapidly radiating from the hand that had slain the beast. Nothing remains from those disgustingly beautiful forest eyes besides the rain. I can practically still feel the water showering my body and I open my eyes to discover that it is.

But the rain is not rain.

It is the blood of the beast.

I lift my hand to see the shards of glass, protruding from every which way. My mirror is on the floor in a shambled mess of blood, tears and misguided misery. All I see is red.

I exhale, feeling the muscles in my cheeks unclench.

I am the beast.


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