Stockholm Syndrome (Jalex)

Day Eleven

Alex. Day Eleven - 8:45

I need to do something with these thoughts; they've become the monsters littering my head, they've too grown up from hiding under my bed, and like me, they've decided upon an entirely more efficient strategy in which to hunt their prey. So really, the monsters and I are rather like. They growl and they snarl and they kill and they destroy and they think and they know everything you never wanted anyone else to know. So really, the monsters and I hate one another.

These thoughts are all of Jack, and what I could do to him, and what I won't ever do to him - the boundary between these two seems to have disappeared by now entirely, but they know this, they know too much, they know my weakness and they're going to hurt him. They're going to tear his fragile, weak little body limb from fucking limb, simply because I couldn't. The monsters have won.

I needed to get away from the monsters, I needed to run like a coward with flying colours and a flashing sign, but survival is more important than pride. The monsters' downfall is that they care for both. But what's the point in pride when you have no one to please?

So, what did I do to escape them? I got a job. Business, and coffee mornings, and watercooler romances are most certainly not my kind of thing. The only type of business I'm interested in is bloody violent business, but everyone knows all CEOs are sociopaths, which therefore makes it simple for me to climb up the business ladder. And who knows, more people to control and bend to my will wouldn't exactly be a bad idea would it?

But what's important is that I'm within the deepest and most profound depths of strict suit and tie sanity. The monsters can't get me there; because they're scared... they're scared of people that don't believe in them. They're selfish creatures, but selfish with a reason, because if no one believes in them, they cease to exist. But, I have to, or else they'll hurt me, as I say, they're already firmly lodged between my grey brain matter.

There's just the fact that I hate ties. Wearing them, and blazers - I hate those too. Suits in general really. I hate order and system, I just like death, and violence and... Mexiletine, apparently. I wouldn't call it an addiction - I'd call it a prescription. Two a day keeps the monsters away. They help, they really do. I think it's toxic to monsters in fact, because the more I take, the more they seem to go away, the more everything seems to go away in fact, but all that matters here is the monsters, and keeping them far, far, far away. And keeping Jack and I safe, and alive.

The mexiletine capsules are red like blood and they taste disgusting but the aftermath, and the feeling when your heart unevens and almost disconnects from your respiratory system is to die for. It's not heavenly, and it's not quite hell, it's just purgatory. It's a feeling of purgatory that I'm addicted to, and isn't that odd? Purgatory seems to be where the monsters can't go; they're monsters of hell, they can break the gates of heaven, but they could never squeeze into the little wretched hole people so lovingly name Purgatory.

People make addiction out as this big, scary life ruiner, but really addiction is a passion, and quite possibly one of the strongest driving forces in the human head. Addiction is a truly compulsory form of necessity. The addiction is what keeps the monsters away, because they're just monsters, they know no addiction, and what they don't know scares them just as much as their roars and growls scare me; they never stop roaring and growling, not anymore anyway, not even the mexiletine keeps them away in the darkened silence of the early morning hours - they thrive at night, that's the only time they could come out when I was a little kid, but now, they're everywhere, but darkness still remains their strong point and their home. That'll never change until someone anchors the sun permanently into the sky all night long.

Addiction is the driving force behind my life, behind everyone's life, because it keeps the monsters away. The people that say they don't believe in monsters are just addicted to that fact, and that's precisely what keeps them away. Addiction is everything strong, everything powerful and is worth fearing, but it's the monsters that plant that initial fear in your mind, because it's not just a fear shared, it's their one and only bane.