Giddy Success: The sun warms your skin as the thick heady scent of fresh-cut grass fills your nose. There is a distance cheering in the distance while you find your center. This is what everything was for.
Your breath goes fast and you run, moving your leg in the familiar motion of a swift kick. No picture accompanies the memory but there is excitement, cheering, adulation, and the overwhelming feeling that you could step sideways off the earth and fly. It is a perfect moment and everyone is cheering along with you.
You did it!
Bloody Nightmare: (content warning for bloody stuff) The darkroom is large from your view. You're a child.
The darkness is oppressive in a way that accents a childish outlook. You remind yourself that there is nothing in the dark; nothing to be afraid of. You're brave! You're strong and you won't let something so silly scare you. You aren't afraid but you know deep down that you're denying your fears.
A scrapping sound echoes from downstairs, the same sound that had awoken you.
After a few slow breaths, you rise from your bed. You see a football poster hanging on the wall with your hockey sticks mounted above it. The back of the door has a toy basketball hoop and the floor of the room is a minefield of dirty clothes. It's only when you're out in the hall that the way is cleared. Your heart is pounding but you don't stop moving. A small palm is placed on the banister going downstairs and the noise is heard again.
The heavy eaches of breathing fill your ears and it takes a moment to realize it's your own breath. The slushing scraping noise becomes more clear but you can't identify the noise. It's wet but sounds like tearing mixed with wood splintering. You don't recognize it. The house doesn't make these noises.
Your path turns towards the back of the house and you walk through the family room. There is a couch facing a TV and a fireplace on the far wall. The shelves are littered with family pictures of a young boy and his parents. Occasionally the pictures flicker and show an older daughter but as quickly as the girl appears she disappears.
A large doorway opens into the dining room and beyond that, you know is the kitchen. Your eyes are locked on the kitchen door as the slick sickening noise gets louder. There are no doors between you and the kitchen but it's too dark to see inside the far room.
The carpet gives way to a wooden floor as you step from the family room to the dining room. It's now that you can see into the kitchen and you freeze. A dark pool of red is spilling from the kitchen and soon it's surrounding your bare feet. The liquid is thick and warm followed by a sickening copper scent. You try to move but you can't.
That's when you see those eyes. They glowed like a cat but were as large as a tiger's. Your muscles resist and attempt to run but every nerve is locked in place. You scream in your mind but your lips are frozen. You can't move or scream. The nightmare comes closer and it's then that you see his shape.
Human.
Except that he's too large to be human. It's then that you see the limp figures behind him, piled up in a messy batch of limbs and torn skin. You can't see the details but your imagination fills in the rest. Your parents. Who you love with everything that you are. They are your only family...
No.
They aren't your only family but you forgot. You somehow forgot. You have a sister who you haven't seen for months.
Your heart sinks and the pressure in your head is unbearable. You hear a single command and you can't help but comply. 'sleep'. With that thought echoing in your head you feel your eyes get heavy and you fall to the ground, suddenly feeling nothing at all.
Surviving Hell: (content warning with blood and substance abuse and depression) The boy standing in front of the mirror is familiar. His face is that of a child compared to the chiseled features he's known for in the city. Sixteen. His birthday is today but he can't celebrate. He has to be okay. He has to hide it.
You are this boy.
You're fighting an oppressive force in your mind, hopelessness, and pain. You can't escape the darkness but you're fighting against it. You want to be strong. Not to save yourself but to ease the guilt of those around you. It's your fault. You hurt them. Now they're trying to save you but you can't be saved. They don't understand.
Fingers tremble as you reach for the pills next to the sink. The white cap opens but the strength of your need sends the orange plastic bottom as well as the round light blue pills to the sink. Your fingers are trembling as you put one and then another in your mouth. You swallow and feel your throat burn as the solid tablet travels down your dry throat.
It doesn't work fast enough. Your left-hand raises and you begin to claw at your neck until two evenly spaced marks appear on your skin. Your eyes rise to the mirror and you finally see yourself. Bright red blood drips from your neck and you're repulsed by the desire and need that wells within your gut. It's not okay. Pretend to be okay.
You reach for the pills and three more balances on your tongue before you collapse to the bathroom floor. The cold tire hurts when it slams against your knees but the pain is barely noticeable compared to the weight of need that continues to try your throat and cloud your thoughts. Your head bends forward and you try to breathe but every breath hurts.
Seconds last for hours and the memory only ends when a loud bang shakes the bathroom door.
Jacob Memories to find~
The sun warms your skin as the thick heady scent of fresh-cut grass fills your nose. There is a distance cheering in the distance while you find your center. This is what everything was for.
Your breath goes fast and you run, moving your leg in the familiar motion of a swift kick. No picture accompanies the memory but there is excitement, cheering, adulation, and the overwhelming feeling that you could step sideways off the earth and fly. It is a perfect moment and everyone is cheering along with you.
You did it!
Bloody Nightmare: (content warning for bloody stuff)
The darkroom is large from your view. You're a child.
The darkness is oppressive in a way that accents a childish outlook. You remind yourself that there is nothing in the dark; nothing to be afraid of. You're brave! You're strong and you won't let something so silly scare you. You aren't afraid but you know deep down that you're denying your fears.
A scrapping sound echoes from downstairs, the same sound that had awoken you.
After a few slow breaths, you rise from your bed. You see a football poster hanging on the wall with your hockey sticks mounted above it. The back of the door has a toy basketball hoop and the floor of the room is a minefield of dirty clothes. It's only when you're out in the hall that the way is cleared. Your heart is pounding but you don't stop moving. A small palm is placed on the banister going downstairs and the noise is heard again.
The heavy eaches of breathing fill your ears and it takes a moment to realize it's your own breath. The slushing scraping noise becomes more clear but you can't identify the noise. It's wet but sounds like tearing mixed with wood splintering. You don't recognize it. The house doesn't make these noises.
Your path turns towards the back of the house and you walk through the family room. There is a couch facing a TV and a fireplace on the far wall. The shelves are littered with family pictures of a young boy and his parents. Occasionally the pictures flicker and show an older daughter but as quickly as the girl appears she disappears.
A large doorway opens into the dining room and beyond that, you know is the kitchen. Your eyes are locked on the kitchen door as the slick sickening noise gets louder. There are no doors between you and the kitchen but it's too dark to see inside the far room.
The carpet gives way to a wooden floor as you step from the family room to the dining room. It's now that you can see into the kitchen and you freeze. A dark pool of red is spilling from the kitchen and soon it's surrounding your bare feet. The liquid is thick and warm followed by a sickening copper scent. You try to move but you can't.
That's when you see those eyes. They glowed like a cat but were as large as a tiger's. Your muscles resist and attempt to run but every nerve is locked in place. You scream in your mind but your lips are frozen. You can't move or scream. The nightmare comes closer and it's then that you see his shape.
Human.
Except that he's too large to be human. It's then that you see the limp figures behind him, piled up in a messy batch of limbs and torn skin. You can't see the details but your imagination fills in the rest. Your parents. Who you love with everything that you are. They are your only family...
No.
They aren't your only family but you forgot. You somehow forgot. You have a sister who you haven't seen for months.
Your heart sinks and the pressure in your head is unbearable. You hear a single command and you can't help but comply. 'sleep'. With that thought echoing in your head you feel your eyes get heavy and you fall to the ground, suddenly feeling nothing at all.
Surviving Hell: (content warning with blood and substance abuse and depression)
The boy standing in front of the mirror is familiar. His face is that of a child compared to the chiseled features he's known for in the city. Sixteen. His birthday is today but he can't celebrate. He has to be okay. He has to hide it.
You are this boy.
You're fighting an oppressive force in your mind, hopelessness, and pain. You can't escape the darkness but you're fighting against it. You want to be strong. Not to save yourself but to ease the guilt of those around you. It's your fault. You hurt them. Now they're trying to save you but you can't be saved. They don't understand.
Fingers tremble as you reach for the pills next to the sink. The white cap opens but the strength of your need sends the orange plastic bottom as well as the round light blue pills to the sink. Your fingers are trembling as you put one and then another in your mouth. You swallow and feel your throat burn as the solid tablet travels down your dry throat.
It doesn't work fast enough. Your left-hand raises and you begin to claw at your neck until two evenly spaced marks appear on your skin. Your eyes rise to the mirror and you finally see yourself. Bright red blood drips from your neck and you're repulsed by the desire and need that wells within your gut. It's not okay. Pretend to be okay.
You reach for the pills and three more balances on your tongue before you collapse to the bathroom floor. The cold tire hurts when it slams against your knees but the pain is barely noticeable compared to the weight of need that continues to try your throat and cloud your thoughts. Your head bends forward and you try to breathe but every breath hurts.
Seconds last for hours and the memory only ends when a loud bang shakes the bathroom door.