Part Of MeA Story by AraneeInspired by my own pathetic life that sucked me dry of happiness. And the narcissistic teacher who decided to erase my very being.
They were trying to erase me, trying to erase every little detail, every little pencil stroke that represented me. As each graphite marking began to disappear from the pages of my mind, I feel myself spiralling down into a deep and endless abyss. The friction of the eraser burns like the hottest fires of hell, licking and lapping at the skin, feeding on it like a hungry monster. As each thought burned away ever so slowly, I screamed ever so silently.
The onlookers pretend not to watch, unable to stomach the gruesome and horrifying picture. Have you ever seen anyone's mind being wiped blank? Their personality and behaviours totally scrubbed clean and spotless, till there's nothing left. They knew of the pain, or perhaps they were blissfully unaware, either way, getting involved was to invite danger. Their glassy, sightless eyes bore into mine, but held no substance, just like those of a rotting fish. They laughed, my tormentors, they laughed. They seemed to be everywhere all at once, taunting me and cackling with glee at my pain. The eraser continued to burn and rub away at the strands of my personality, unravelling all of them like silk threads. The burns never cease and seem to intensify with each waking moment. My tormentors seem to enjoy this activity and begin to join in with more vigor, scrubbing away each mark in my mind. ~*~ He said that I was to coarse towards my fellow members. He said that I was always in the wrong. He said that I had to change my ways. He said that I must learn to adapt to the environment I was placed in. He said that these fragile people could not withstand my outgoing and outrageous personality. He said. He said that I was to be erased. They agreed with him, these fragile people, hailing him the God of the Realm. They worshipped the ground he walked on and the very words he spoke were listened and kept by the audience, trapped in the recesses of their decaying mind. They agreed with his sentence, that I was to be erased, to be sacrificed for the happiness of the Fragiles. They agreed. At first I didn't realise what was to happen immediately, but when the therapy started... everything changed. Everything seemed duller, more lifeless and the world became black and white to me. Memories of my twisted past came back to haunt me and the sharp rememberance made me shudder. Everything that you have ever experienced or ever thought about, laid at the feet of your most hated enemy, the humiliation that followed could not be described. It was not only laid out and shown to your enemy but to the onlookers around you. ~*~
I could only stare up at him in hatred, even as my personality was being washed away, I could still sense that I hated him with every fibre of my being. Those lifeless, dull rotten fish eyes stared into mine blankly, as if he were detached and not part of this torment. As the next memory was fished out for everybody to see, I felt hot tears run down my cheeks. They may be taking away my personality but I could still feel emotions. The memory replayed over and over again, taunting me and breaking through my emotional barriers. The onlookers stared speechless, while the tormentors continued to cackle with glee. The sound of their laughter grating my ears like nails on a damned chalkboard. As the last strand of my personality was erased, burning away into nothingness, they dropped my lifeless limp body onto the floor. I sighed in relief as I realised that the tormenting had stopped. I was a different person, a hollow and empty person that could be molded after anybody by anybody. I was vulnerable and weak in this state. But what fueled me on was my hatred, my raging need for bloodshed and vengeance. I wanted to make him pay for what he had done to me. For humiliating me in front of hundreds of nameless, faceless people. For making me lower that the dirt I walked on. As the tormentors left, the onlookers began to feast and had stooped to poke at my body. Some strayed away from the crowd but others began to look upon me as if I were some sort of an exhibit. They had never seen an "erased person" before, let alone witness the erasing itself. I was a f*****g carnival show. I don't know how long I lay there motionless and deathly still. I couldn't tell day from night anymore. It didn't matter now. ~*~ There was a flicker of life somewhere in my mind. In the blank pages, there was a faint outline. My personality was too deep, etched in too harshly to be completely erased. Their mind-washing had done a great deal of damage, it was almost unsalvageable but that faint outline became my only hope. What was left of me, was still there. No matter how small or faint, it was still me. I began to rebuild my mind. It would not be the same as before. It would be vulnerable at first but slowly, bit by bit, it would strengthen itself. As I picked up my pencil and began to rewrite my personality, following some of the faint outlines of my former weaker self, I gave a sinister smile. They wouldn't even know what hit them. © 2010 AraneeAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on February 1, 2010 Last Updated on February 2, 2010 Tags: gone, personality, pieces, part, erase AuthorAraneeSingapore, SingaporeAboutYou can call me Aranee. I just randomly Googled up for a Writer's website hoping I can find something like this. (Thank goodness I've found it!) I have a vast appetite for books and I love wr.. more..Writing
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