WHO'S WORLD OF FANTASY WILL YOU DIVE INTO NEXT?

NO MATTER how far I go, it is still there; staring me down like a sentinel sent by the Fates to pin me down.

It is always there, at the back of mind, waiting for the slightest opportunity to rear its damn, horned head.

It is easily awoken by the tiniest of sounds, and its retribution is unforgiving.

I lay down my head and quiten my mind, and it takes the opportunity to roar. The sound keeps reverberating in my ears, like an echo without end.

I wake and pace around my room, hoping that I will be distracted enough to forget, and it head-butts me.

Although I am still pacing, my mind has fallen, unable to withstand the force and magnitude of the impact.

Anger courses through me like the blood in my veins, fuelled by my helplessness, constantly pumping more frustration to feed the anger.

I glance at the cup on the table, and for a moment I am tempted to hurl it at the wall, hoping that my anger will be carried away by the projectile… but I muster the urge.

Defeated, I fill the cup with strong tea and mix it with ginger powder in the hope that my throat will burn enough to distract me…

I glance at the knife on the shelf, and imagine the things I would do with it on my skin. Perhaps it is time that I silenced the mind for good.

But the thought of my family’s face when they discover my maimed, blood-empty body, and my Best Friend’s disappointment manages to stay my hand from reaching for the blade.

And so I am left to fight the losing battle, with no one to help me because they just wouldn’t understand.

Tears come into my eyes, stinging the very surface of my eyeballs. But I cannot cry. Crying would solve nothing.

Thus, I remain like so for the next couple of days until the beast hides its head under its wing.

Perhaps it will wake up dead, I tell myself. Perhaps this time I will be lucky.

And just when I begin to settle, another person comes and mercilessly prodes the sore spot, and it all starts again….