Takes a while. But you wake up eventually. Even though the world is dark and the clouds seem to gather overhead. You wake up, and you have to face a hostile world.
You know it’ll take a while to get adjusted, to convince yourself this is all worth doing. Amidst the voices that scream at you. You just want to hide, but everywhere you go, they keep on hounding you.
The little pills at night keep the spectres at bay, but by morning, they have torn down the clumsily built walls and have begun scratching your face with their claws.
You wake up, and the marks on your face remain, the torn flesh, a testimony of the curse that haunts you.
Sometimes I imagine running down the trails, the places I go to run, surrounded by trees and thick foliage, places no one bothers to go, and in that silence, to lie quietly among the bushes, to exhale my final breath. There is much beauty in this world, if we bothered to look around us. Enough beauty that it can kill the chaos we harbour within. But sometimes that calls for a sacrifice, a sacrifice of the soul.