plazma
Bluelighter
Fuck, FUCK!!! The pain, washes over me in a river, I can feel it wearing me down, swirling around me. The darkness seems to creep closer. Oh god, please don’t let me die like this. Trying to find the strength for courage, and dignity. Fuck! Will someone help, please god help me! I can barely remember anything apart from this instant of total agony and annihilation. I can’t remember anything except for flashes, passing in front of my eyes, people walking through the darkness around me.
In front of me I see myself, running. Through the darkness away from it, the fear shackling my legs, dark chains pulling me back. I can feel my fear, liquid eroding my mind. Back tensed, waiting for the thing I never want to hear. The slight glint in the corner of my eye. Punched forwards, stumbling, a numb feeling, what is this? Again, and again and again. Hit me, what? My legs aren’t mine anymore, I can’t control this body, clumsy and punctured. The sound slams and whipcracks around me. The front of my shirt torn and fuck what’s this? No this happens to others, I never see this in me. The ground rushes up to meet me, the smash of my impact muted. No pain. Where am I? I don’t know where but oh god I’m scared. I’m so scared I want to die, but I’m dying and I’m scared. Won’t someone hold me?
Curled up in a foetal ball, the blood washing over me, warm and sticky. I don’t want to know it, I can feel it in the back of my throat. My hands cradling my stomach, I can’t feel my back, like being hit with a sledgehammer, it’s almost numb, but I know that its torn away. Punched holes through myself, oh fuck I’m dying. Mother! Where are you now? Make it better, so my torn and shattered guts don’t hang out of me, so I’m not suffocating on my blood. Metallic tasting, like having water forced down my throat, cloying. I can feel the holes in me, where my soul spills from me onto the ground. No. No this isn’t me, I’m dreaming! I can’t feel it, did it happen? I can fill my lungs with air, what’s left of them. I’m terrified I don’t want this, but it’s here. I know I’m shot, but the movies never told me what it feels like. Violated, raped but why is my mind still alive. The sticky warmth trickling out of my chest, and stomach, through the gaping holes. The torn intestines, they’re mine and I’m here but my hand won’t work to put them back in. It’s so untidy this death of mine.
The dark, why does it scare me. Bad things come out of the dark, will they seem me lying here? My split ribcage, I can feel bone there, pawing now at the broken pieces of me, squishy, warm, torn. They’ve gone right through me. I wonder where they are now, those things. Small pieces of lead, they’re stealing my life away. But I feel there’s something coming for me now. Looming over me like some dark apocalypse, its foul breath hot on my neck. And the pain comes. Pouring over me, my own hell of torture for eternity. Beyond even feeling as my blood splashes messily onto the ground. Face and hands covered in this red sacrament of pain. And I scream. My voice a liquid gurgle. Mother, someone, fucking stop it… Take it away! Help me! Oh god, oh god. My lungs empty of all but blood, choking on my own life. Fading away, I can feel it, drawing me towards whatever it could be. My body is so tortured, but I’m compressed within it, that small piece of sanity burned by the pain. Whatever was me. And I can feel the blood flow ebbing, the last draining away from me. Oh have I given enough? My breath catching in my throat, gurgling and straining. The effort overwhelming me as my eyes stop seeing. A last cry? I can’t open my throat, and my mouth won’t move. The feeling of blood trickling through my teeth. A choking sob, more splash than voice, Fuck. No. As a spasm takes my body, twitching it away from me. I can see from behind my eyes, looking through them but drawing back within myself, from my smashed ribs, torn chest and the mess that was my stomach. The breath won’t come in my throat, locked like I’m in concrete. Bloody, smeared with dirt and muck. Limp and broken drooling red and pain. I can’t see or hear or know.
And the nothingness and dark comes for me. Looming over me and my horror…
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[ C E N S O R E D ]
In front of me I see myself, running. Through the darkness away from it, the fear shackling my legs, dark chains pulling me back. I can feel my fear, liquid eroding my mind. Back tensed, waiting for the thing I never want to hear. The slight glint in the corner of my eye. Punched forwards, stumbling, a numb feeling, what is this? Again, and again and again. Hit me, what? My legs aren’t mine anymore, I can’t control this body, clumsy and punctured. The sound slams and whipcracks around me. The front of my shirt torn and fuck what’s this? No this happens to others, I never see this in me. The ground rushes up to meet me, the smash of my impact muted. No pain. Where am I? I don’t know where but oh god I’m scared. I’m so scared I want to die, but I’m dying and I’m scared. Won’t someone hold me?
Curled up in a foetal ball, the blood washing over me, warm and sticky. I don’t want to know it, I can feel it in the back of my throat. My hands cradling my stomach, I can’t feel my back, like being hit with a sledgehammer, it’s almost numb, but I know that its torn away. Punched holes through myself, oh fuck I’m dying. Mother! Where are you now? Make it better, so my torn and shattered guts don’t hang out of me, so I’m not suffocating on my blood. Metallic tasting, like having water forced down my throat, cloying. I can feel the holes in me, where my soul spills from me onto the ground. No. No this isn’t me, I’m dreaming! I can’t feel it, did it happen? I can fill my lungs with air, what’s left of them. I’m terrified I don’t want this, but it’s here. I know I’m shot, but the movies never told me what it feels like. Violated, raped but why is my mind still alive. The sticky warmth trickling out of my chest, and stomach, through the gaping holes. The torn intestines, they’re mine and I’m here but my hand won’t work to put them back in. It’s so untidy this death of mine.
The dark, why does it scare me. Bad things come out of the dark, will they seem me lying here? My split ribcage, I can feel bone there, pawing now at the broken pieces of me, squishy, warm, torn. They’ve gone right through me. I wonder where they are now, those things. Small pieces of lead, they’re stealing my life away. But I feel there’s something coming for me now. Looming over me like some dark apocalypse, its foul breath hot on my neck. And the pain comes. Pouring over me, my own hell of torture for eternity. Beyond even feeling as my blood splashes messily onto the ground. Face and hands covered in this red sacrament of pain. And I scream. My voice a liquid gurgle. Mother, someone, fucking stop it… Take it away! Help me! Oh god, oh god. My lungs empty of all but blood, choking on my own life. Fading away, I can feel it, drawing me towards whatever it could be. My body is so tortured, but I’m compressed within it, that small piece of sanity burned by the pain. Whatever was me. And I can feel the blood flow ebbing, the last draining away from me. Oh have I given enough? My breath catching in my throat, gurgling and straining. The effort overwhelming me as my eyes stop seeing. A last cry? I can’t open my throat, and my mouth won’t move. The feeling of blood trickling through my teeth. A choking sob, more splash than voice, Fuck. No. As a spasm takes my body, twitching it away from me. I can see from behind my eyes, looking through them but drawing back within myself, from my smashed ribs, torn chest and the mess that was my stomach. The breath won’t come in my throat, locked like I’m in concrete. Bloody, smeared with dirt and muck. Limp and broken drooling red and pain. I can’t see or hear or know.
And the nothingness and dark comes for me. Looming over me and my horror…
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[ C E N S O R E D ]
