Subject 0427

Memories flashed through my mind, my cracked defences unable to stop the torment from oozing its way back in through the pieces that I was so desperately trying to keep glued together.

Screaming. All I can hear is screaming. My lungs burned, and my throat ached as I scratched at the terror rising from my stomach. Sweat dripped down my forehead, my body shivered.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to force the memories resurfacing to the back of my mind. My isolated sanctuary was quickly becoming my own personal hell.

The burning fire of panic crept up my throat, destroying everything in its path and swallowing all that it could. The next scream gnawed at the back of my throat, begging to be let out. No matter how hard I tried I knew I couldn’t stop it. I grabbed my head, covered my ears and curled into myself to try and stop the fatal blow.

With my arms wrapped around my knees, I hugged myself. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he broke me. He probably already knew. But still I disobeyed him. I knew the consequences, but I couldn’t let him hurt her. I couldn’t let him use her for his sick games. I promised him everything for her safety. And yet I couldn’t save her. She was the perfect subject and, in my willingness to take her place, it was easy to lead me into a false sense of security.

I was foolish to think that I could win, that I would survive this. Everyone knew it, they all warned me. But I wouldn’t listen, didn’t want to listen.

Yet I’m the one that’s sitting in anguish. I’m the one that survived.

I thought I had something to prove, I thought I could win. But with scream after scream racking my body in flames, I knew I was wrong. I had, unknowingly, signed my own death certificate, and put my body in the furnace for cremation.

It was almost as if I could feel the fire re-igniting itself, melting away the reinforcements that surrounded my scarred heart. The solitude that surrounded me only left my soul burning in the wild destruction of my own worst enemy. Myself. I couldn't even feel the flames licking at my skin anymore. It wasn’t until I saw the reflection in the glass that I realised it was time for my next punishment. Yet the fear I once felt for this man had already disintegrated. I was done playing his stupid games.

I could no longer distinguish what was real and what was of my own creation. But one thing’s for sure … The final blow was near.

His insults cut through my glass shield like a hurricane, but I remained still. It was time he played by my rules. My movements remained minimal as I watched his anger get the best of him. He was sick of my disobedience. As soon as his hand made contact with my face a scream strained my vocal cords. It was happening again, yet this time, I had full control of what I was doing.

Cradling my head in my hands, I could feel the heat tracing its way up my spine, towards my chest, up my aching throat. Everything rattled as the final scream left my mouth.

The window had shattered, and yet not a single piece of glass pierced my skin. My eyes opened, the heat slowly seeping away, the reality of what I had done engulfing me in relief.

The fate of my decision was finally taking its toll.