She fell asleep.
I look at my mother. Half asleep on the couch, half smothering me.
My shirt is wet with tears.
There's no sound in the house anymore. Nothing but her small breathing around me.
She sounds so fucking...weak. I don't like seeing that, I don't fucking like it.
As delicately as I can. I grab her hands, her hands still around me, and for two minutes I try to escape her grasp.
When I manage it. I find myself standing in front of the couch.
Looking at my exhausted mother curled up on the couch, tears still wet on her face.
....
Without a thought, I bathe in the silence.
Just...feeling.
Feeling whatever is FUCKING wrong with me.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!? WHAT IS FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING FUCKING WRONG WITH ME!?
Taking a deep breath, I decide that I'm done here.
So I get in my room, grab some of the nicest blankets from my own bed, and leave.
Without any hesitation I carefully drape them above my sleeping mother.
I look at her for one good minute, making sure she won't wake up.
Then, I leave.
My room again.
Only when I'm alone in my room, door closed, only then do I allow myself to think again.
To breathe again.
To remove my shirt wet with tears and look at my puny little body.
Pathetic.
Fucking. Pathetic.
Look at it, small, fleshy, weak, pure weakness. No sign of struggle, doesn't matter how hard I fucking train, doesn't matter how fit I am, I still look like an innocent and inoffensive baby.
What a disgusting body. A disabled and pathetic body, in a fantasy world. Yeah, of course it was a fantasy world. Of fucking course. One where people can apparently move at light speed and cut logs in half.
Disgusting body.
One too weak and young to fight, one too weak and young to protect anyone, or myself, one too weak and disabled to have any hope for the future.
A future with a war looming over me. One that will definetly hit my little village.
If it didn't already.
I think the whole kid army is proof enough of that.
A future war who's probably filled with whatever kind of weird magic this world has, and to be honest, it doesn't even fucking matter if it has magic or not.
My body is so weak, even a normal war would rip me apart.
I look at my finger. My scarred index finger.
I rememeber very damn well how I got this scar. I brought up my finger up in my mouth, right under my canine.
And I bit it.
I pushed on it, feeling the pressure but no pain.
I pushed. And pushed, until my tooth was inside my finger.
Just to see if my disability was real or not.
I didn't feel anything.
I rub my finger again.
And look at it, I find it fit to see this scar as the representation of my mind.
A dumb fucking mind. A dumb baby brain.
No, that's a ridiculous excuse. Baby morphology or not.
I bit through my finger, felt no fucking pain. AND I HAD THE FUCKING AUDACITY, THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO STILL HOPE THAT THIS PAIN RAVAGING MY BODY WOULD TAKE CARE OF ITSELF!
Because...I would grow up.
How about I fucking shut up and grow up for real instead of hiding myself in the white comfortable lie that is hoping that everything will always be okay.
Also, medieval japan? Really? I fucking heard Kiko talk about children strong enough to beat up adults and I didn't figure it out? Really? Am I that fucking dumb?
How fucking pathetic can a man be?
I look at myself. I give a damn good look at myself.
And without even giving me a second to prepare myself, I stop moving.
I feel it, see it, again. I see it. Those movements.
The pathetic way I move, the pathetic way my body uses to escape the pain, to escape the constant pain ravaging through my body, the pain that made me want to kill myself more than once, the pain that made me so fucking damn uncaring of life I started doing dumb risky stuff and HOPED fucking HOPED that something would kill me to grant me peace for once in this DUMB FUCKING LIFE!
I hate this life. And I hate this body.
I restrain my movements.
No Nirvana for me, I straight up go to the shaking stage.
As always, the pain climbs up, so much that I feel like a rabit animal is digging through my guts.
I keep it up. When I feel like something is digging through my brain, that a rat decided to house itself in my hair and started digging through my skull to find my dumb little brain, I kept it up.
I keep it up, while I feel my eyes swelling, I want to move them, hold my eyes in fear as it genuinely feels like they're about to explode in my skull. I don't.
I keep it up, even when my arms are being cut apart in two different direction, even when it feels like a gigantic saw is cutting through the meat of my hand, through my tendons, through my bones, even when a single movement of my body is enough to promise me salvation from this pain. I keep it up.
My body shakes, sweat gathering on it. One of my arm snaps forward uncontrollably as if an alien tried to jump out of my skin.
I restrain the movement.
Again.
I look at my body. MY USELESS FUCKING BODY!
And I stop moving.
I want to stop moving.
The pain climbs up, running through my chest, pushing through my organs, digging through my brain.
I keep it steady.
Tears run down my face. I keep steady.
My chest jumps up, as if my heart was trying to escape out of my chest. It feels like it, it genuinely feels like it. Because of course, my organs aren't spared from this pain, it would be easy otherwise.
No. I feel it, my heart, my intestines, my liver, even organs I don't know the name off, everything pulsating in a rhythmic symphony created to push me through as much pain as possible.
Designed to make me want to stop. Designed to make me give up.
I don't give up.
I keep steady, I don't want to move, I don't want to move. My body shakes so much that I lose the control over my legs.
I fall down, straight on the ground.
I don't feel anything but the pain ravaging through my body.
Falling on the ground doesn't feel like anything, I lived through worse in this pathetic life.
I don't move my face, feeling something drip out of my nose. But I don't move, I stare at the ground.
I don't fucking care.
I don't want to move.
I will not move.
I won't move.
I don't know how long I've been staring at the ground, but I don't stop, I never stop. I'm hearing things now, voices.
They trail around my body, their deadly nails ripping through my flesh before skinning me alive.
They whispers sweet things in my ears, they whisper that it hurts. That it really hurts doesn't it? Yes, I know it hurts. They know it hurts, they understand me.
They relate with me. They talk about the pain, they talk about how horrible it is, that everyone in my situation would do the same thing, that I'm right, and that everyone else are wrong.
They keep talking. With their sweet poisonous voice.
They tell me it's been one hour, now two, they tell me that I've never went that far before. That I should be proud of myself, that even if I stopped right now? I should be proud.
They keep talking. Sometimes in my right ear, sometimes in my left, most of the time inside my skull.
And they tell me.
The fix to all of my problems.
I just need to move.
I don't.
Something rises in my throat. I keep it still.
It rises. Harder.
I keep it still.
I keep everything still.
I don't stop, I don't stop, I never stop. I don't stop even when I see the sun shining through my window.
To end my birthday on a good note.
The world gives me a last gift.
I puke. No food comes out.
I don't move, even while feeling the puke around my face, filling my nose and mouth, I don't move, planning on choking on it if needed.
I won't move, I puke again, more liquid comes out.
It doesn't stop.
I puke again, and again, I puke so much in fact that it's getting ridiculous, I puke, and puke, I feel something dripping down from my throat and flowing on the ground like a waterfall, no matter how much I try to restrain myself, I can't, it's just coming out, through my mouth.
It doesn't stop, my stomach and throat working by themselves to puke liters of....water
Water.
Water is coming down from my mouth.
A ridiculous amount of water.
Clean enough for me to bathe in it.
Before I can even try to understand what the FUCK is wrong with my body.
I pass out.
....
To end my birthday on a good note.
The world gave me one last gift.
Chakra release.