Shattered

S²

Day 26

It has been 26 days since I left and I was overjoyed because I was finally free. I was finally free from their hold. Though I wanted to go back where I really belong, I can't risk any life that would be taken.

I stood up from the bed and grabbed a pen and a paper, I've found myself soon writing a journal but hell it was troublesome. I wrote the date but I was troubled on what else I could write. I tried to browse on the internet on what I could write in the journal but all they said was to express my feelings or my everyday life. How could I write my life when it could give one nightmares?

Should I really continue this? It was hard for me to think of something to write and here I am crumpling another paper and starting anew. I never thought writing a journal was this troublesome, but I already started writing I shouldn't back out. After some minutes I found myself writing what I was thinking and finally I started my first journal. Though I knew deep inside myself that I would be too lazy to even continue writing on this thing everyday.

Smiling to myself, I tried to make something to eat. Skipping the meats and such, I tried to cook vegetables but I guess they didn't want me to eat them. Brushing my hair up with my fingers due to frustration I settled in some ramen I found on the cupboard and at last I had something in my stomach.

It was a fairly peaceful day, for me atleast. Would it be selfish of me to say that I wanted the time to stop? Just for a mere second for me to enjoy the peaceful day to it's extent. Putting the used dishes on the sink, I started washing them- it wasn't like I had anything to do rather than eat, sleep then repeat. This would be fun if I was like the others but unluckily I wasn't.

I wasn't like them.

I wasn't normal, like they say. But how could they really define 'normal'? Is it how others speak? But then again not all people speaks. Is it the way they act? No that's not it, not all people acts the same. So how could one really define normal? Such words that can flare up debates, it would be fun watching that.

After washing the dishes, my feet brought me to my closet. Giggling softly to myself, I opened it. Many clothes in different high-end brands, some that I haven't worn yet and some that still have a price tag. I brought out one dress, it was a black sleeveless dress that ends mid-thigh with some patterns here and there. It was a simple dress but it brings anger to me, reaching out for the pocket knife I have in the table I started running cuts in the dress. I didn't care about it's price nor brand, the only thing in my mind is to destroy it. I continued running cuts in the dress until I was satisfied.

Was is bad that I imagined it to be human skin?

No, I shouldn't be thinking of ill thoughts in such a nice day. I picked out the remaining fabric there is and the pocket knife, arranging everything that I had messed but then I felt crammed all of the sudden.

I felt bothered not even knowing why, I started fidgeting and tapping my feet on the cold tiles. My eyes searching for the thing that makes me uncomfortable but found none. My head bringing up many flashbacks that resulted in a headache but that didn't stop me from fidgeting. I banged my head to the wall wanting the headache to stop, I felt it stop for a moment so I kept banging my head on the wall not caring about the sound it made.

When I was satisfied, I noticed a dent on the wall that was made out of plywood. Maybe I banged my head on the wall harder than I thought, not that it was important.

I walked towards the bathroom to wash myself up since I was getting sticky from all the sweat. When I saw my reflection in the mirror I laughed. I laughed like it was the most funny thing in the world, since my forehead was red and I could see little patches of blood but I didn't felt pain out of it which was funny. I kept laughing and laughing until I was gasping for air.

I didn't even notice chocking my own neck, I guess it became habitual for me. When my laughter ran down, I stared at the mirror again, noticing many incorrect things in my face, body heck even my soul and mind. I slowly approached the mirror like it was a prey and ran down my hand on it.

I slowly made my hand into a fist and punched the mirror, making some small fragments of it falling to the ground. I smiled at my reflection on the shattered mirror and paid no mind that I was stepping on the fallen fragments.

It was really satisfying, seeing my face on it and feeling something tingly in my feet.

“It really is”