It's Turning Me

I just wrote this while waiting for my Mass Communications class to begin.

They’ve said He’s just a stain, mold from the leaky ceiling.  But I know they are al crazy.  Black and pendulous He looms above my bed.  He resembles a poisonous cloud smoldering in the corner of my ceiling.  I stare into His belly every night before closing my eyes.  He sickens me.  I hate that He always uses the playful cloak of darkness to tease me.  Some nights He taunts me by pretending to drip His toxic self onto my forehead.  Yet other nights He just stews there, stretching his sludge-like limbs farther across my whitewashed walls and ceiling.  He’s growing.

            I’ve considered telling them He’s growing, but I’m afraid they will try to kill Him.  We have a love-hate relationship tinged by overwhelming fear and disgust.

            “Carrie…”

            Sshh…I shouldn’t think of Him to negatively.  He doesn’t like that.  I don’t want to get yelled at again.  He knows what I think about.  At first I resisted His direction, the constant talking in my head, but He has shown me insight I could never acquire alone.  He teaches me how to behave properly.  The more I listen the more He grows.  I can’t tell if that is good or not.  Now He only fills the corner of my ceiling.  Do I want him to grow?

            “Yes!”

            Yes I do.  I bow my head as an apology.  He will accept this and forgive me.  He needs me as much as I need Him.

            “They knock.”

            I hear the knocking too.  I hate when they visit me, but He tells me to let them in anyway.  It’s proper to let them in.

            I open the heavy door, He helps.  The men in white enter.  He directs me so I behave perfectly.  The men hand me a cup of water and two little blue pills.  Their eyes are black, like His, but this blackness is severe and threatening.  I shudder from it but He tells me to regain composure.  It’s very important to keep composure.  I can’t lose it now…to important.  He doesn’t stress that enough.

            I take the pills.  They taste dry and bitter against my tongue.  I swallow.  The men in the white pry open my mouth to check that I’ve ingested the pills.  They seem content and exit the room, locking the door behind them.

            “Spit them out.”

            I dig the pills out from the pocket of my cheek.  The men in white think they pills will help me, but they only make me sicker.  That’s what He told me.  We both know I’m not sick.  It’s the men in white who are sick, keeping me locked up in this padded room.  They have kept me here for so long that I’ve lost track of the date and time.  But He helps me keep track of the days now.  His growth is my calendar.  In fact, tonight marks another day.  He says He will grow a lot tonight.  I’m nervous because he wants me to watch this time.

            “It’s important.”

            Yes, tonight is important.  I must watch…or He will get very upset.  I don’t want to see Him angry with me.  I don’t know what could happen if He ever got angry with me.  That thought and possibility endlessly haunts my dreams, forcing me to turn and thrash in my sleep.  Soon night will come.  My body shudders again, this time from nerves and excitement.  The fear of Him leaving me creeps in as well.  I’m very lucky to have His company and couldn’t imagine this room without it.  The creaking and haunting noises of the outside world would be so loud without his constant whispering in my head.

            “Stop!”

            He’s right, I shouldn’t think of such things.  Not now anyway.  We have more important events to concentrate on.  My loneliness is insignificant.  I am insignificant.

 

 

 

            He says it’s time.  Time for sleep, however, I’m not allowed to close my eyes.  He wants me to watch Him grow.  I will.  If it’s important to Him then it is important to me.

            My pillow cradles my head and my mattress follows ever contour of my tired body.  For the first time my bed seems comfortable, but it is just an illusion.  He warned me the men in white wouldn’t want me to watch Him.  I must resist their attempts to sabotage this night.

            “Watch.”

            I force my bloodshot eyes up towards the ceiling.  Fatigue tugs at every fiber of my being but I resist every pull and push.  Again I focus my body on Him.  There He sits, splayed in the corner.  Soon He starts to quiver.  His blackness, quivering and twitching, begins to spread.  His sludge-like limbs stretch and slither in every direction.  His corner darkens and he begins covering the entire wall.  He emanates a sickly wet sound as He continues to grow.  I press myself tightly into my mattress as the fear of Him consuming my body enters my mind once again.  He whispers an unrecognizable language into my head.  The larger He grows the louder His whispers get.  My head begins to buzz and my ears ring.  I cover my ears and squeeze shut my eyes, trying desperately to drown out His deafening cries.  Moments feel like hours.

            “Listen!”

            I pry open my eyes and see nothing.  He has consumed my entire room.  All four walls and my ceiling are blackened by His ever-growing presence.  His voice echoes through my head again; however, this time it’s pure shrieking.  It drowns out all my thoughts and spreads piercing bolts of pain up the back of my neck and head.  It felt as if my head had been split open.  Then, for the first time, I felt Him.  Long sticky tendrils wrapped around my hands and feet.  I looked down in panic to see them wrap and grow up my wrists and ankles.  They were so cold.  I could feel my skin dying beneath Him.  I let out a piercing scream that was ridden with both panic and primitive fear.

            “Quiet!”

            I couldn’t stop screaming.  It wasn’t until He let out another piercing blow to the back of my skull did I cease.  I shut my mouth, that’s what I get for disobeying His wishes.  For what seemed like hours, I thought my will to obey was going to crack wide open but I held tight.  I kept my composure.  I kept it all while He snaked up my limbs and while He wrapped Himself around my torso.  I kept it while my skin iced over and died beneath his blackness.  It wasn’t until He began coiling up my neck that I began to cry.  His tendrils slithered to my face, licking my chapped and colourless lips.

Author's Note

It's not finished..I know that..I just haven't submitted anything in such a long time that I figured an unfinished one was better than nothing