5:18 a.m. How much longer must I sit and wait? My body presses up against the wall clinging onto its own shadow for comfort. Shaken and cold, it needs this shade. I suppose I do not need it - or anything for that matter - but limbo is the closest thing I have to a friend. I am not ready to be still just yet, yet still is what I have to be for now. I can see the horizon peeking through the half drawn blinds. Do I dare risk leaving? One sudden movement, one slip or slide north will lead me south. I know I should jump. I might be able to make it, and the longer I sit and wait, the less likely my chances become.
What was that noise? Something like a grumble. I thought I lost whatever it was that attacked me. I ran for what seemed like hours, and now my flesh clenches onto my bones. I thought I was safe, but to be honest, I never once looked back. Perhaps it followed me here. There it is again! but I am distracted by lightning shooting up my spine, tearing my limbs. It travels through every muscle in me, twisting, knotting, releasing. The sensation is excruciating and pleasurable at the same time. I do not remember being so masochistic. When did I change? My sense, including my common one, is altering, heightening. All of this power, this eminent form, yet I cannot control my desire. Unceasing like a wildfire, it does not desist. It only persists, and I cannot resist drooling over mangled wrists . No barricade can aid the open valley in my arms. This place of security is now of harm. Again, I feel like I should be concerned. Instead, I smile.
Are these my teeth? They seem more like sheathes, narrow knifelike blades for samurais to sway. There is that noise again. I am hungry, very hungry. The craving is unbearable. It distorts my sight, and I cannot focus on anything but the need to be full. Nothing seems good to me, though, and my head is ringing with unfamiliar sound. I swear I can hear a voice making a choice for me, but it runs from one chamber in my head to the next. I cannot catch it, whatever it is. The other noise, however, does not linger anymore. It strikes me with unyielding force. The noise is hunger, and I am blinded by it. I lied about not needing anything. I need this. Maybe just one bite?
I prayed the day would never come when the sun becomes my night.
I pray this night will save me from the hunger that I spite.
What a horrid fright, this wicked delight.
to be continued...
- Alexander McCurdy