Trapped And Afraid.

The face looking back at me is one to be loathed and avoided; I can see the pain in those stooped shoulders, the weight beneath the eye-brows. Even the eyes themselves seem slightly lackluster, almost dulled--when they meet my own, it makes me cringe.

The impossibility of escaping my own reflection haunts me--in fact, it terrifies me. Never before have I been repulsed by my own name--I've never tried to run from myself before. But now that I am trying to escape what I am, I realize that I am the perfect prison; my face, my actions, will be the deep-cutting bars of incarceration regardless of how far I run. 

It is in solitude that I find the most solace. When with those who love me, I know their affection for me is tainted by the characteristics of myself that I have grown to despise; when I am around those who loathe me, I am painfully aware of the validity of their hatred. It is only alone that I can forget who I am and finally escape the ubiquitous reflections of myself that bleed from the eyes of everyone I meet.

I used to love myself, but that has been beaten and destroyed. I no longer enjoy the confident self-appreciation I once had--I am now encased in the disgusting chains of skin and shame while you stab me with my failures. If my bleeding of self-loathing brings you satisfaction, then so be it--I cannot retreat any further within myself. I am now also incapable of leaving the cage I built so hastily.

The claustrophobia makes it difficult to breathe.  

Reviews

[FJ Davis]

This is an image-rich and exceedingly well-worded story. The philosophy, however, has killed more people than Hitler.
It is my best guess that "Trapped and Afraid" is merely a writing exercise; yet another plunge into teenage angst's troubled proverbial waters--a mere experiment in probing the profound depths of futility.
I like your style, Ben, and sincerely hope I'm right about your motivations.