REM

It Comes For Me Again

I stare into the dingy mirror as I wipe my hand over it. My expression is blank, there are bags under my eyes. The shithole I'm living in is all I have. Towels are littered around the floor from people who have used the place to clean themselves up and then move on, but not me. I'm still on the run from what lurks inside of me.

Catching a glimpse of fur behind me, I spin around to find the bathroom empty. The tub is stained and looks moldy, but there is nothing hiding in it aside from dead skin cells, blood, and perhaps diseases people have left behind while trying to clean up their act.

As I turned around I was shocked to see the wolf staring back at me. It vanished immediately, leaving me to stare at a scarred version of myself.

My jaw began to quiver as I reached up to my face, my fingertips feeling for the scarred tissue. Tears were waiting to burst out down my cheeks as I moved my hand downward, feeling nothing but smooth, oily skin. My face isn't scarred at all on the surface, yet I know that deep down it probably is.

The wolf has always lived beneath my flesh. Claw marks suggested that it was ripping at me from the inside to get out, but I never felt the pain. I guess I've become numb to its presence as the years have gone by, even though it has a permanent residence within me.

There are days when I wonder how much longer I can keep hiding it. The creature needs to get out. It needs to be let loose to satiate its needs which I have suppressed for too long. Caging it deep down inside has done more harm than good to me. I wish I had known sooner what I was actually doing to myself, but I guess running away to this shithole was the wake-up call I needed.

Realizing that the place I was temporarily calling home would serve me no good in trying to heal, I turned away from the mirror and began to walk out of the bathroom. I need to start over. I need to let the wolf out to guide me to a path of balance.