When The Walls Broke.

By Insha

"It's lurking behind those shadows, And not just within shadows, as it should be. Now, it hides in plain sight, Under my bed, between my walls, not bothered, not even by light. It tries to reach me, its finger slowly breaking through the walls. Its hand extends to grab me by my throat. But how can it be here? I engraved it in those walls years ago; it promised it wouldn't return. It promised, it promised, it promised. Then why do I feel its breath on my skin? Its gaze follows me everywhere. How could it be here when it's supposed to be in my room, just my room? But now, I feel like it's everywhere—in every wall I see, in every mirror I pass. Even my shadow somehow looks like a blend of it. Why? Why is it doing this? Did it lie about disappearing forever? Did it lie, saying my wounds would heal with time and that it would never cause me any more harm? Its eyes look at me like they will drown me even in the shallowest of water. How do I fight it? How do I put it behind those walls again? How do I make its eyes stop following me everywhere? How? How? How? Will it drown me this time or make me choke on my own blood, or will it twist my heart so tight that there's not even a single drop of blood left? I feel like whatever it is, I won't escape it this time. I won't be able to put it back inside those walls. There's a voice in my head screaming, telling me to hide, but I think it's enough. This time I won't stop it; this time I won't trick it; this time I won't fight back. I won't, I won't, I won't. This time I will embrace it. This time I will let it take me. This time I will gaze into the abyss as the abyss gazes back."

By Insha