unsure and trapped

A boy stressed and confused makes hasty decisions.He experiances some unsual occurrences.

Trapped in an unbreakable labyrinth, in which could not be escaped. He felt pressured, as if he was wearing a medieval knight's armor. He tried to take it off but could not for witch it was stitched on. He was hiding his true emotions like a mask. It was a bulky mask with thick paint and glossy colors but abaft the mask laid no color. It wasn’t a dream nor nighttime but something else. It abided so dark that when he opened his eyes it was just as dark as when he closed them. The house was utterly silent and reticent. Even the sound of the distant neighbor flick their light off was so noticeable. An unbearable amount of thoughts poured in his head that could not be constricted. It was a type of pain that slithered, and sneaked within.

 

It was icy and secretive. Time started to distort and deceit. Seconds became hours and hours became seconds. Eventually his mind concaved and collapsed. His diamond wall has just been hit with an iron axe. It was like a stitched hole over his heart was shredded apart. All his Russian nesting doll layers opened up which revealed the smallest doll in the center containing his true, deep emotions. It let all fears in that came in like a flood. He wanted to get up and get some fresh air but could not. He was trapped in mental darkness and stuck lying in his own sweat, tears, and fear. The covers felt like sandpaper that scratched him with every subtle movement. He was tied down with layers and layers of barbed wire that penetrated and sliced his skin. He could not leave but could not stay. It was hard to tell if it was reality anymore. His views became opaque and confusing almost abstract. His thoughts were about as clear as a mirror after a hot shower. His mind was about as lost as a toddler trying to find his mom at a led zeppelin concert. His will and mental strength was dimming. He yearned for closure. He felt lost and alone, almost altitudinous. The thoughts torrentially crashed in like a tsunami. So he just kept descending into perpetual darkness.

 

He was irritable and fatigued. As if he was in a soundproof glass box, he felt secluded and isolated. He felt lonely and a troglodytic. All of a sudden in the complete silence a particular sound appeared. Clack, clack, clack, clack! The sound of footsteps vigorously stomping through the halls, slowly increasing in sound as it came closer. Each step taken shook the floor, and walls. Except the only one awake was he. As the sounds reached its peak, it stopped. Glimpses of schizophrenic symptoms began to occur. A voice, one voice began to yell. Screaming with power and anger, as if it was threatening him. Threatening him to leave and give up. The voice seemed as many, for which it interrupted itself, starting a new phrase without finishing its last one. It called “you're useless, you're crazy, leave, they hate you, nobody loves you, they all hate you, you’re a loser, you're stupid, you're alone, and always will be!” He squealed, and cupped his hands to be followed by covering his ears. This action was useless, for which the noises were not actually there. He whispers in a scared tone “ Shut up, shut up, shut up, you're not real, it's just a thought, shut up! That’s not true, none of it!” Your family hates you and dreads you, and rather have you dead, why even are you here! There is no point; they would want you to do it. Leave, run away, leave, they don’t want you anyways!”

 

He continued to convulse wildly, while he rolled around in the doused sheets. He contemplated and envisaged all the possible outcomes of leaving, but his thoughts were pouring in to expeditious. His skin was wet, and sticky, like as if he were in the Amazons. His teeth were clenched, and copious amounts of saliva spewed outward with every exhale. He looked as if he were a Bernard, perching at another dog. As if he had rabies, his mouth foamed ferociously. He didn’t want to think anymore and just wanted it to happen. He was very unsure but didn’t care. All he wanted was to let go and be free. The next moment later he catapulted his damp, burdensome blankets over him and against the wall. He sprung out of his bed ardently, as if hot coals were beneath him, sizzling his skin. He blitzed with urgency, and grasped his backpack. He unzipped it haphazardly. He grabs random clothes and shovels them into his bag sloppily. Negligently he slips a pair of jeans on and a sweatshirt. He then grabbed all the $206.27 he had saved and shoved them into his pocket. He flung on his backpack and began to sneak downstairs. As the house was older, every step taken sounded like an erupting volcano. Dozens of numerous sounds came with every subtle movement. He tries with immense effort to control his loud breathing to prevent anyone to notice him. He manages to reach the last step and then sneaks to the kitchen. He knows he has to be extra careful in order to stay unnoticed. He removes his backpack from his shoulders, and unzips slowly. Standing directly in front of the pantry, he opens each door to reveal teeming numbers of subsistence and provisions. He forms his arms into a u shape and reaches far in the cabinet. He scooted his arms towards him, allowing all the food to slide in his bag. After compacting the bad to a full, he reassures it on his back. He was now fully prepared to leave but on his way out of the kitchen his shoulder knocked a water glass over. It shattered, and pulverized into a thousand fragments. Glass shrapnel disseminated across the entire tile. As soon as the descending glass touched the floor, every living thing within the house woke. Him being terrified of the others noticing his escape, he whizzed like a bullet across the house.

 

He rammed his shoulder into the kitchen door creating a baseball-sized crater in it, and a hinge to break off. In process of the collision, when his shoulder impacted the door it caused wooden shrapnel to flutter throughout the doorway. As he proceeded sprinting, the wooden flakes continued to flicker down for the next thirty seconds. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, as his chest rapidly expanded outward and then compressed inward. His heart was beating so fast, it's as if you could see the outline of it though his shirt. He continued to gallop through the hall and reached the front door. He grasped the door handle with intense strength. He then flicked his arm with an enormous amount of force that caused the door to swing inward. It was flung so tremendously fast that it not only broke the doorstep but also precipitated the door handle to penetrate the plaster wall. He stood at the entrance of the house with one hand on the rim of the doorway, and the other hanging loosely on his side. He stood there as if he were waiting for something but not wanting that something to appear. He condescended at the house now, like it was in the past and distant. As if it were foreign and unfamiliar. Except that it was right there, underneath his feet. He glared back anxiously with intense fear and panic. His eyes shared the same eyes of a deer, when it spotted a nearby hunter pointing their rifle straight at it, where only a few seconds of its life remained. His bleak pupil expanded, while numerous streaks of red lighting broadened throughout the sclera. The zigzagged lines emanated from the pupil out across the sclera.

 

 

The rainfall inundated and came down like the fires of Pompeii that night. The extremities of the rain gave off dismal and bleak vibes. He ran sloppily outside, with his arms flaring in the air like a flame does on a windy night. He took his hand and wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist. His breathing was inconsistent like random amplitude lines on a seismometer during an earthquake. As if he was on cocaine, his pupils dilated, he was nervous and irritable. He fidgeted wildly and his nose drooped snot. The intense rain masked and blended in with his tears. He continued to run deeper and deeper into the abyss.