61 seconds

60 seconds

The time ticks but you're going to do this. After all you know you're so done with this shit and everyone and me.

59 seconds

You stand there, your eyes piercing into your own reflection as you stare at your complexion through the smudged mirror. The bright LED runs round the edge causing your emerald green eyes to turn a more devilish yellow with the light bouncing off of them.

Your dirty blonde hair drapes around your oval face, a rogue strand hovers around your eyes, perching on your eyebrow, causing you to see lines in your vison.

58 seconds

You grip tight onto the white, polished, marbled sink basin looking down into the semi-dirty luke-warm water that has just been sitting there for the past 20 minutes, as you had just washed your face, and you feel sick but you haven't eaten anything for the past 2 days because of this damn migraine and your head is fuzzy but oh so heavy at the same time and you just want to punch the mirror with your left hand so it can break into million tiny little pieces, you don't even care about the 7 years bad luck superstition shit, and you're tired of looking at yourself because it reminds you of me.

Me.

Oh how I was meant to protect you. After all, you truly believed I was your guardian Angel.

Throughout the entirety of your 18 years of life I had been there.

I was the shadowed figure that hovered over your crib causing you to giggle through your winding halls of your manor house waking your parents. I would set the chimes dangling above you off leaving you mesmerized and I'd hum the same lullaby that was pitched over to me when I was young too by my creators.

I was the imaginary friend you had made up as a young child, telling you things you were far too young to possibly understand. You had repeated such creepy sentences for a kid but your parents didn't seem to mind, they had brushed it off as the innocence of a young child and found it cute, so I stuck around.

I was in every single dream you had every night and even throughout the day. Your mind was always so powerful-- even for a teenager and that was one of the reasons you stood out to me. And oh you used to dream so much. But I was always there and it wasn't a problem. You never seemed to care, it never bothered you really.

I was that voice inside your head telling you, if not screaming at you, getting you to do those small rituals, the compulsions, the intrusive thoughts.

Your obsessive compulsive disorder.

It started off small, you had thought it was just the stress of your exams at the time being but then you realised it never truly went even when you were 'happy'.

Even when you were with me.

But the constant checking of every locked door or window, two times with your left hand, once with your right then three more times with your left hand.

Always repeating everything six times.

You couldn't stop.

Because if you did, you were convinced something terrible would happen to you.

Or even I would leave.

You felt as if that was how you were bounded to me.

And then you got diagnosed with OCD properly and it made sense and for a second you truly thought I had nothing to do with it, that I was just there protecting you and making sure your rituals were righteous and correct and you'd be okay.

But it never worked like that.

And so you got diagnosed with OCD but I was clever— after all it was always just me talking to you and making you do those rituals, I was always controlling you.

You never wanted to see that.

After all why would a faithful child ever want to see the bad in her Angel.

57 seconds

You notice your eyes glaze back from their trance and a rouge tear slithers down from your eye.

Your head feels oh so heavy now and your arms are cramped. However you slowly lift up your stiff left arm and unlock the oak wooden door.

56 seconds

You contemplate walking out of your ensuit and trying again to forget about everything I had ever put you through.

You feel like walking out of your abandoned house that your parents had left you when they died 6months ago in that car crash, along with your two older brothers.

But you don't want to think about that right this second.

You think about walking through your estate, through your grounds, through the back woods and into the manors graveyard where your family are buried. Just to sit there with them, even for a second. To tell them everything, and you're not being trying to be modest or save anyone but the accident was your fault in-fact.

You want to put your long red iconic trench coat and sit on the dying grass underneath the conifers and the towering oak trees and sit with Will and Cameron and mum and dad and explain about me and how much you miss them too.

55 seconds

But you don't.

Instead you open the door, only a fraction and you spin round effortlessly on your heels and turn on the shower.

54 seconds

You inhale deeply and slither out of your leather jacket, jeans and vest letting them flail to the floor, the drop seeming the echo around the large bathroom.

The sound flying around your lonely home.

Considering you were 18 when your family died you were held responsible for yourself therefore no one else coming to live with you after them. At that time being I was the only family you had left.

53 seconds

You slowly take a step into the shower, the steam consuming you.

The water weeping down your body.

There's something about the scolding water trickling down your body. It's comforting; the warmth. It lays over the coldness inside of you.

52 seconds

You look at the hunting blade on the side next to you on the side, your fathers old knife that he taught you to use when you were younger.

51 seconds

It's only poetic you'd use it once more to take another life.

You pick up the blade, admiring the silver, smudged from being cleaned over and over, you can just picture the thickness of the blood dripping down by your water filled toes.

You grip the mahogany wood tighter with your left hand, with your thumb you start caressing over the initials carved in the base: E.S.

Eligh Sawyer, your father. Or is it after you— Eli Sawyer? After all this blade is your destiny.

50 seconds

Your breath hitches but you finally bring your destiny down to your right arm.