Submerge

Photo by Riva Almero on Unsplash

I have been warned before, not to dwell too deep in this mind of mine. I might cross the border to the “other side” if the imaginary realm therein is eminently alluring.
I think I’m tripping over that thin line while bouncing a little back and forth.

Everything began a few days ago. It seems, the human psyche has walls that are collapsible. The ability to determine between terms such as delusion, visual and auditory hallucinations have been served on the plate next to the office breakfast.

The man across the dining table digs into his small bowl of chilled pasta salad. As he bites, his teeth sink into something red and sickening.
A handful of drenched intestines appear in his bowl and the man starts consuming with no remorse. His laugh distorts, his teeth and gums are soaked in blood. The woman next to him screeches with a fake chuckle as she bites into the human guts, blood, and gore. They can be seen gnawing the flesh as the membranous tissues and veins collapse beneath their fangs.
Auditory and visual.

My eyes sink. I blinked and made an effort to concentrate on the people in front of me. As reality blurs and flickers, I’ve painted the tidy, antiseptic atmosphere red in my head. Breakfast. We are having breakfast.
The sandwich tastes weird. I hold it close to my face and give it a sniff.
Rotten meat. My eyes plunge lower.

I approach the meeting room and read the cringy corporate title that was given to the place “Ice Pop Training Room”. My vision blurs. I have to blink simultaneously, as the visuals begin to scream in front of my eyes.
“Fuck You Room” I blink repeatedly. “Fuck YOU. Fuck YOU. FUCK YOU.”.
I approach the sign. There is a lot of people around me. The white letters suddenly clear out. “Ice Pop Training Room”.
Visual.

I lower my head, fixating the ground and slowly taking my seat.
My eyes dark, sunken. My throat has dried up, my mind has shut down.

Photo by Michael Benz on Unsplash

In the midst of the whiteness, I am alone. This isn’t real, It exists purely in my head. Everything is glossy, high-tech, clean, and pristine.
Similar in ferocity and terror to Stanley Kubrick’s Shining, the downpour begins to fall.
The white layer splits in the middle, allowing a powerful, crushing blood cascade to crumble through.
The white turns crimson, the cold grows warm, reality ishes out and spins wildly without any points of reference.
All of it is dark. There isn’t a navigational point around.
There is no navigational point available.

Photo by Chaozzy Lin on Unsplash

For ultimate chaos and disorder will be unleashed when the mind parallelly attacks and defends itself.

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Sara S.

Sara S.

Content creator using writing as a tool to carve the stone of self expression.