Describe A Place Where You Feel Afraid.

I am alone.

There are walls. Endless stretches of high, black walls towering over me; laughing. Their shadows fasten me into a dark envelope of panic, sealing the corners with burning, waxy kisses. They feed off my waves of fear as they grow, taller, stronger.

There is no light, yet I can still see. There is no light and yet shadows are thrown across the floor, lined up one after the other like a silent, solitary army.

Faces. Thousands and thousands of faces; glaring. They turn to one another and exchange glances of trust and violent rage. They stare at the little one. Me. The one who held the gun to their heads and pulled the trigger regardless. Family, friends, aquaintances. They were nothing but a speck of dust on a hypochondriacs conscience. I stand amongst the disembodied heads rolling at my feet, the thunder battling onwards.

I am afraid. Crack. Lightening. Shiver.

The metallic smell lingers. Burning inside my nostrils like acid, like flames crawling down my spine and spilling from my fingertips. The glistening red liquid gushes like a waterfall but there is no beauty encapsulated in the sound as it hits the ground, no Niagra Falls splendour replicated here. My feet are petrified, I cannot move; I am drowning. Tiny fingers stretch out from within the wild river and caress my forehead. I am baptised in the sweet water once again.

A Blessing.

The rain is falling. Tears of time that fall for every second that was wasted, every heartbeat that was never felt. They fall for the tiny, crinkled foreheads that were never kissed by infatuated lips. It is cold. The rain trickles across my bare skin and soaks through my clothing; shredded and worn. I had waited for the rain, but it had never come and now it was here, unwanted yet inexplicably desired. Each drop that dashes against the floor shatters into a thousand, cascading diamond droplets. They dance through the air in a desperate last chance at fame, at glory.
Their death is quick and painless.

A quiet voice, penetrating through the light darkness. A single rose falling softly onto a silken pillow. Hush now, sweet child. There is no fear here.

Shaken by the disturbance, the walls are collapsing around me. Shuddering and roaring in rage at the hint of hope in that familiar voice. The mouths of the souless faces gape wide open and they wail incessantly, screaming as they are crushed beneath the tumbling idle boulders-their job is easy.

The Earth yawns and cracks it's weary joints. Takes a breath. Heaves a spineless, juddering sigh, swallowing the damp rancid air as it gulps at the breaking chaos. The world consumes itself.

The silence is deafening.

And I am left. Fighting for a war that was not lost, a war that will never be won. I have killed, I have sinned. I am a prisoner inside my own head.

I am alone.