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Description

next- Empty Dreams

Darkness.

No, it was moving.
It was tearing into him- Whatever had him in its grasp was tearing him apart. He could feel himself fragmenting, his body tearing at the seams before being stitched back improperly. Painfully wrong.
He wanted to scream but he couldn't, to struggle and escape from this intruder of his mind-

His mind?

He couldn't follow the question before he was once again torn piece by piece, sown back in a different order in a different way.
What was this? Who was dragging him away, who was uncaringly causing him pain over and over while he couldn't so much as cry? Must be his father-

Another statement that confused him. He tried to hold onto it before he was ripped from it once again.

He was getting tired of this treatment. How many times has he been torn apart now? Not to be blunt.... but it sucked.
As used to pain as he was, it didn't mean he was immune to it, he could very much feel it-

A searing burn as what felt like the skin across his face was torn apart before placed back, only to be torn away further extending down to his neck.

He wished he could cry.
He didn't like being scarred over his eye again-

The darkness tried to pull the statement away again, moving him quicker through the muddy waters of pain and thoughts, but he refused this time. He bit into the words until they melted into his mouth. Realization tasted like honey, with the bitterness of lemon.

Where the hell was he? He couldn't see, yet he could, he couldn't feel as he didn't have a body, yet he's certain he just tasted something.
He could feel pain this entire time, so he must be somewhere. A part of him, anyways.

Hm. Part. He didn't feel great when considering that conclusion.

Speaking of parts, now that the darkness wasn't fighting him for the scraps of his mind, he realizes that his memory is in fragments.
He must specify... His memories were perfectly intact. Amazing as ever.
There just seemed to be more than he remembers existing. Living through.

In one he was born to his bastard parents and grew to hate them. The one he remembers being correct.
In another, he grew to love them. Immediately unbelievable, he looked through those fragments, they were equally as terrible as his current.
In one he was never mutilated. In another he managed to escape. In the next he met a friend.
What were these other pockets of memories? Lifetimes? So many never ended and others did, each one almost as painful as the next.
If he was going to find out he had other lives, he would've wished he was happy in at least one of them, did life truly give him a bad hand?

As if answering his unwanted prayer, the darkness started to pull him into the pain-filled waters once again. Not to remove his consciousness, it was already too late for that, but to make him experience that pain again. He was certain of its goal, so he fought against it as best he could. To drown in such painful memories was too much already, but to fall into the lake that was each lifetime? He'd surely die, he couldn't go in there.

The darkness seemed amused by his struggle, seemed to whisper something into the void of his ear, but he couldn't catch it as it dragged him underwater and choked him with the years of torment he ever would and will experience.

This was his fault.

______

He awoke with a strangled gasp, trying to get air back into his lungs.
He felt like he was struggling to breathe through gills, trying to breathe through thick blood that was his own, choking on smog and smoke as fires burned around him, trying to breathe through broken sobs of years of mourning.
But the ink wasn't real, he had never drowned in it.
He swears he didn't.

fINALLY i got this done,
woohoo IKATI next ones lee :]

27/53 acorns

Description

next- Empty Dreams

Darkness.

No, it was moving.
It was tearing into him- Whatever had him in its grasp was tearing him apart. He could feel himself fragmenting, his body tearing at the seams before being stitched back improperly. Painfully wrong.
He wanted to scream but he couldn't, to struggle and escape from this intruder of his mind-

His mind?

He couldn't follow the question before he was once again torn piece by piece, sown back in a different order in a different way.
What was this? Who was dragging him away, who was uncaringly causing him pain over and over while he couldn't so much as cry? Must be his father-

Another statement that confused him. He tried to hold onto it before he was ripped from it once again.

He was getting tired of this treatment. How many times has he been torn apart now? Not to be blunt.... but it sucked.
As used to pain as he was, it didn't mean he was immune to it, he could very much feel it-

A searing burn as what felt like the skin across his face was torn apart before placed back, only to be torn away further extending down to his neck.

He wished he could cry.
He didn't like being scarred over his eye again-

The darkness tried to pull the statement away again, moving him quicker through the muddy waters of pain and thoughts, but he refused this time. He bit into the words until they melted into his mouth. Realization tasted like honey, with the bitterness of lemon.

Where the hell was he? He couldn't see, yet he could, he couldn't feel as he didn't have a body, yet he's certain he just tasted something.
He could feel pain this entire time, so he must be somewhere. A part of him, anyways.

Hm. Part. He didn't feel great when considering that conclusion.

Speaking of parts, now that the darkness wasn't fighting him for the scraps of his mind, he realizes that his memory is in fragments.
He must specify... His memories were perfectly intact. Amazing as ever.
There just seemed to be more than he remembers existing. Living through.

In one he was born to his bastard parents and grew to hate them. The one he remembers being correct.
In another, he grew to love them. Immediately unbelievable, he looked through those fragments, they were equally as terrible as his current.
In one he was never mutilated. In another he managed to escape. In the next he met a friend.
What were these other pockets of memories? Lifetimes? So many never ended and others did, each one almost as painful as the next.
If he was going to find out he had other lives, he would've wished he was happy in at least one of them, did life truly give him a bad hand?

As if answering his unwanted prayer, the darkness started to pull him into the pain-filled waters once again. Not to remove his consciousness, it was already too late for that, but to make him experience that pain again. He was certain of its goal, so he fought against it as best he could. To drown in such painful memories was too much already, but to fall into the lake that was each lifetime? He'd surely die, he couldn't go in there.

The darkness seemed amused by his struggle, seemed to whisper something into the void of his ear, but he couldn't catch it as it dragged him underwater and choked him with the years of torment he ever would and will experience.

This was his fault.

______

He awoke with a strangled gasp, trying to get air back into his lungs.
He felt like he was struggling to breathe through gills, trying to breathe through thick blood that was his own, choking on smog and smoke as fires burned around him, trying to breathe through broken sobs of years of mourning.
But the ink wasn't real, he had never drowned in it.
He swears he didn't.

fINALLY i got this done,
woohoo IKATI next ones lee :]

27/53 acorns