Chapter Text
I see...
Cysts and ticks on my wall.
It feels too real; I want to get rid of them with a hammer, just as I did last time. But I can't, I can't get out of bed, I shift and move, but I never feel comfortable here. I haven't slept. I might just lose my newfound job around town soon.
And I feel really tired. What can I do? I think I see something in the dark.
I see someone. He's not real, right? But I can feel his presence, almost like he's staring at me, so I don't get to sleep anymore. But I told myself he wouldn't bother me anymore. And he won't, so what's my head's deal? Is he real? Did he fucking break into my home to ruin my life again?
He's smiling and waving. And he looks like Ivan, himself.
I waved back. And he opened his mouth, but no word came out, or I just didn't hear it. He's getting near, and I'm afraid. He grinned, and he gently grabbed my arm, gesturing for me to get up, sit, and enjoy his presence. I smiled and sat up. He smelled like rain.
The cysts disappeared when he got closer. And he rolled down the sleeves of my hoodie and caressed my exposed arm. His eyes glimmered through the darkness of my dark bedroom, a gentle smile on his face, and he looked up.
"Hey, Andrew."
He spoke. Like Ivan. A gentle voice, holding in whatever guilt and anger he had inside. And he smiled so sweetly, like he didn't have any problems on the inside.
"Hey, dude," I replied, "What are you doin' here?''
His face went blank, then he spoke,
"Nothing, thought it'd be great to visit you!" He grinned once again. It sent shivers down my spine. He kept circling his thumbs around my wrist, making me feel a little better from the uneasy energy that sparked from him.
"You do know it's not a bad thing to rest, right?" He glared at my arm.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's a ok thing. To rest." I laughed awkwardly. He laughed too. "Why don't you lie on the headdress so we can talk some more?" He looked up at my face. And I did lie on it. But he just kept caressing my arm as he gleefully said something.
I don't know what we talked about.
I just kept letting out grunts and mumbles every time he paused to check if I was listening to whatever he was yapping about. He didn't seem satisfied with my uninterested replies. He let go of my arm and grabbed my chin, "Are you listening at all?" His voice was firm. "Yeah! Yeah-" I paused a little, "I am, don't worry." I chuckled. He looked pleased and let go of my chin, then continued to talk about whatever he was talking about. And I nodded in agreement, letting out more grunts and hums from my throat.
We both stared at my exposed wrist.
I didn't notice he got hold of it; he rubbed and made a circular motion with his thumbs. But he'd never do that at all, right? Right?
His eyes shone through the dark. Like a light at the end of a tunnel, a speck of sunlight, barely seen. I don't know what he's staring at. It feels unreal.
Like my mind is playing tricks on me.
He paused in his words and snickered slightly, turning to his side.
"Hey."
"Hm?"
"I wanna do something," Ivan turned back to me, "You up for it?'' I felt my nervous system skyrocket. He looked eager for my answer,
"N-No." I stuttered, voice cracking. I turned away from his gaze. "Why not?" He chuckled, "Trust me, man, it'll be great." He tried to reassure me. I won't fall for it. His grip on my wrist is getting tighter as I feel his hot breath against my nape. "No." My voice, this time, was firm.
"Just this time, ok, buddy?" His voice was almost angelic. "Please?" He pleaded.
And I finally gave in. "Fine, fine!" My lips shivered. He let go of my wrists and clapped his hands. "Great!" He smiled warmly.
"Now, scratch it." He pointed at his own arms. I clawed at it, seeing the blood seep out of his arm, and he winced, tears falling, yet no sobs.
I kept clawing at it, feeling the flesh against my fingernails. Feeling full of it, like kings.
We both smiled, and he let out a half-laugh, half-sob. I laughed so happily. I kept my fingernails in his flesh, digging deeper.
"Great job! See, I told you!" He kept laughing until he sobbed, hiccuped.
A sob.
And another sob.
And another,
And another,
And another,
And more.
I can feel his flesh so good, I feel nice.
It's like my own flesh.
...
...
...
......
Fuck.
Oh, fuck.
Not again, not again, not agAI-
I dig my fingernails deep into my arm, feeling my own flesh. I hissed.
I'm crying.
I can almost feel my bones; my flesh feels like marinated chicken, and I can feel my bones ache.
I'm shaking.
I feel every part of my body shake, and I'm crying so hard.
It happens,
Over and over again.
When will my life get better?
God. Why is this happening?