Caged

She doesn't blink; her gaze is stuck to the faded grimy tiles. The only time her eyelids flutter is when water drops make her eyelashes feel heavy and as it falls, so does her tears.

Water can wash away many things - dirt, stink, blood, stains, everything; calmness sets in - alas, it doesn't happen to her, not now, never before. She can see all the filth trailing down with the droplets but can never scrub off all that she has done, no matter how long she stays under the shower. She scrubs and scrubs and scrubs again but the stains don't go away - the blood doesn't go away, the blood only she sees. No one knows why she does what she does; no one hears her muffled sobs on her pillows as she passes night after night; there is no one for her.

What numbness feels like she's not aware of.


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There is no escape from pain, hurt, despair, hopelessness, she feels all of it; it's inescapable. It's a trap where there's no way out; a cage where she's boxed in. Her mind and her heart are constantly tortured by the murderous path she leaves behind - she's helpless. She can go anywhere she wants to, do anything she seems fitting, yet no one is more imprisoned than her.

And in the midst of all suffering, she's not alone - never alone.

One may think that it should give her some release or hold her back on the brink of losing herself, but no. He's always there, seeing what she sees, feeling everything she feels. Her bunkmate in this frail feature of flesh and bones is the one responsible for her misery and the massacre she causes. He's the puppeteer and she's the lifeless mindless doll with strings, dancing in his tunes. He takes pleasure in killing and torturing but more than that it's her vulnerability that he feeds on.

She muffles another sob - water, and tears all mixed together. He laughs triumphantly as she breaks down. She puts her hands on the wall to steady herself from falling. As much as she has tried to gain control, she's failed, always. Yet she tries again, only to be proven wrong and even a more gruesome massacre by the monster inside her.

The water has been running cold but she's numb to realize that. She steps in front of the mirror over the sink and wipes the fog - staring back at her own reflection. Too damaged, scarred, and beyond repair, beyond recognition - even if she wants to find a way out and heal herself, he won't allow it. The same features but the eyes are different - they're his eyes. In that flicker, she sees him smirking - a smirk she's too familiar with but the fear remains the same. Her reflection laughs at her, cruelly - her soul chips away every day by his actions. A tear rolls down her cheek - her eyes hold so much pain. He mocks seeing her like this - he cackles like a maniac.

"Aww, sad, are we? Poor thing." He mocks.

"Why?" She sobs.

"What why? Sweetheart?" He coos ridiculing her.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" She asks.

"Do what? Piercing our teeth into their pretty little necks? Tasting their sweet blood on our lips? Drinking away their blood fast and fast? Drain them till their head snaps off? Feeling our veins come to life? What is it that You accuse me of doing?" His tone is nonchalant.

"Everything." She screams at the reflection with tears violently streaming down her face.

"Is that so!" Her reflection laughs at her. "And you have no hand in it, right?" He teases. "Not even when you were the beginning of this arrangement?"

"You never told me the full extent of it." She cries harder. "I never thought..."

"You didn't think that's your fault. You knew who I was and what you were dealing with. What part of Daily Ration of fresh human blood did you not understand, my dear?" His question shocks her. She holds the edge of the sink tighter and breaks down.

"You knew everything and now you got your conscious? You didn't seem to need it when you summoned me!" He spats.

"I didn't know... I didn't know..." She keeps repeating frantically.

"The sooner you get used to this arrangement the better, for both of us." He says sternly.

"Please stop. Stop all this. Please." She looks up but it's her eyes, not his.

She blames her selfish mind and growing dark soul. There's not much time left to save whatever is left of herself.

What has she done!

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