[TW: Swearing]

The snow howls outside my room, as the wind pushes it along. I sit, with my knees to my chest, trying to stay deadly still and quiet. It is said Santa Claus used to come round the world and give children presents. People used to wish for a white Christmas to better add to the Christmas feeling. But that was when Mrs Claus was alive. Nowadays we hope for snow to better conceal our tiny Scottish villages.

I hear a rattling, my dad told me it used to be a jingle. But Santa swapped out his bells for something more sinister. I tuck my head between my knees, praying he doesn’t land. But I hear a dull thump next door. I live on the outskirts, so he usually passes over to the main town, but not today. I cross my fingers, hoping the neighbours remeber to stay hidden and quiet. But I think I hear a stifled cry. A pause. And then… Santas heavy boots thump along the wooden floors, the sound travelling through the thin walls. I close my eyes tightly, tighter than they were before, and I dig my fingers into my ears. But it’s not enough. I hear begging; a thump as something falls to the floor. Next, pleading to save the children; a crack and another thump. The sound of crying, and then silence. My breathing hitches as I try desperately not to cry.

I used to babysit those kids.

Deep breath in. And out.

The sound of footsteps recedes. It’s my house next. The sound of joy as Santa comes down the chimney. If I stay quiet, he should leave. He only checks the rooms where he would put the presents. So that’s the living room and-

Shit

I’m in the bedroom.

Oh shit.

How could I be so stupid. Of course he would come in the bedroom. The place of the- Jesus Christ the place of the fucking stockings. My mind races thinking of solutions, but I come up blank. I can’t- I can’t breathe- what the fuck was I thinking a simple mistake that can cost my life. Jesus Christ. As my mind continues to whirlwind I hear a noise that was concealed by the walls. “Who feeds the reindeer all their hay?” Is that Santa? “Who wraps the gifts and packs the sleigh?” Is he _singing _ __“Who’s helping Santa everyday? Mrs. Santa Claus!” The singing morphs into a rendition of hummed jingle bells as Santas heavy boots clomp up the stairs. He checks the room next to mine and I crawl under the bed, sprawling myself out. My door bursts open, welcoming a swirling snowstorm. I remeber my teachers saying it’s supposed to represent his grief. That it was never there before. I used to call bullshit, but, if your wife’s death puts you on a murdering spree, I guess it must be a lot of grief. And there is a lot of snow. The floorboard creaks as he lifts his foot from it. _Maybe he’s leaving _I think, right before he slams down on my foot. I gasp out a breath as he drags my body across the floorboards. So this is it. I’m done. And I’m leaving with my dignity.

“Respectfully, fuck off.” I gasp out through the pain. As soon as it’s said I regret it. I didn’t have to. I could’ve have just stayed silent. Silence says more than talking typa thing. Maybe he’s going to kill me slowly now. But you know what. I refuse to spend my last minutes regretting my actions. “It’s rude to enter without permission.” I say, my face still facing the floor. I think I’m drunk off of pain hormones. Or whatever it is. I can’t be bothered to remeber. Stars in my eyes as he kicks me in the chest. Hard. He has a spike on the front of his boots. We were never told about that. The stars grow across my vision as I cough up blood. I thought being impaled in the chest would be a quick death. He kicks again. Why did he have to kick again? More blood gurgles out my mouth as I feel get sleepy. Is a word supposed to go between feel and get? I feel a slight shift as the jolly fat man crouches down. He lifts my head and I look into his black eyes. Black as coal. He shakes his head before slamming mine down on the floorboards. I hear a faint Ho Ho Ho before I slip off.

I remember when I was younger I lived next to the woods. Me and my sister spent most of our days running between the trees and splashing through the creeks, while the wind whipped through our hair in a frenzy and the branches slapped at our faces to scold us.

When we got older a building site wanted to destroy the forest for new houses, me and my sister were appalled, so we started a petition. We convinced people to sign it and eventually the operation got shut down. We kept the forest, rich in memories.

I stayed in my home town, and when my parents died in a car accident, I got to keep the house. So me and my boyfriend moved in, some people felt I was being disrespectful, living in their house right after their death. But it was what they wanted, after all, it was in their will.

When me and my boyfriend got married, it was a winters day. Snow was littering the hillside, painting the landscape in an angelic white, which glowed in the setting sun. We kissed under the arch while petals and snow danced in the air around us. My sister walked me down the aisle by my request. The band played well into the night, much longer than we had payed them for. And once everyone had left, me and my gorgeus new husband drove away in a car, letting all the world know we were married.

Me and my husband tried for children for years, but nothing worked. So we adopted a gorgeus baby named Saiba. I still remember bringing her home, her tiny hands reaching up, playing with the air, I remember the exact way the light made her brown eyes caramel. The feeling filled my heart with indescribable joy.

When Saiba brought home her twins for the first time I remember sitting them on my lap and letting them play with my hair. Their brown skin, a shade darker than Saibas, seemed to glow in the artificial light. And I swear I saw tiny halos glittering around their head.

Just a few weeks ago, me and my husband sat at the patio of our home. Staring at the flames leaping and dancing in the air, I reminisced at my life. My sister had died many years before, but I still held all our memories close to my heart. My grandchildren were in their twenties, but I will always see them as tiny angels. I leant my head on my husbands shoulder, our bones were brittle, and our faces wrinkled. But he managed to make me feel like a lovesick teenager again. I felt my heart fill with pride at the life I lived. If I could do anything differently, if I could intervene. I would still stand at the sidelines and watch.

So I lie here today, the beeping heart monitor next to my bed, remebering something my teacher taught me about death. “It is said, that in the final 7 minutes before we die, our brain relives the best memories, the ones we keep next to our heart.”

So I lie here today, reliving my best memories, and when I feel myself slipping off… I welcome death with open arms.

What do I have for lunch today

I wonder what he’s doing

Maybe he’s thinking about me

Ooh look a rabbit

Oh my god it’s so cute

Looney tunes

I hate looney tunes

Wait, what’s looney tunes again

What’s the time

12:49, huh time for lunch

Ooh a yellow car

I remember when me and -

The suns so bright today

My blinds used to be bright pink

I wonder what my old house looks like now

Maybe it’s a man with a beard living there

I hate mullets

And bowl cuts

So ugly

What do I have for lunch

My love,

You are the oxygen in my lungs You are the blood coursing through my veins I am filled with nothing but you

My love,

You are every thought in my head Every nerve in my body You are every beat of my heart

My love,

A black hole, stealing all my love I am every planet and you’re my sun You are the centre of my universe

My love for you is an ocean And I drowned long ago

My love.

listen to me I scream i deserve to be heard aswell i need somebody to tell me it’s okay i need to know it’s not just me

the words in my head need release, but nobody wants to listen. They judge, They judge and judge and judge. But nobody listens. Lend me your ear for a moment. One moment. I do not need your pity, I do not need your charity. I merely need to be heard. To be listened to. please I beg please one moment one moment before i fall apart just to know i’m not alone to know somebody is out there

I need to feel loved To feel cared for Appreciated. By one person. One hidden gem in the midst of this pile of dog shit. Just one. please

In the golden night anything is possible. In the golden night your hopes and dreams are possible. In the golden night everything is better Everything is kinder. In the golden night the moon dances with the stars. In the golden night you can be who you want

“Reach for the stars on the golden nights, Because in the golden light anything is possible.” In the golden night.

One day, many years ago, when horses were more common than cars, a woman sat at the edge of the lake, watching the moon drift lazily across the sky. She was a curiosity to the old-fashioned villagers who believed women should only be out at night with a man to protect them. She had arrived that morning, and in a small village, news travels quickly. She hadn’t been carrying anything. She just showed up out of the mist, and headed straight towards the lake, where shes been ever since. The villagers had been watching her all day, but now, in the absence of light, they had all gone to bed, leaving the woman to stare at the water in peace. So that’s what the woman did. She stayed put, shifting only slightly to gaze dreamily at something else, or very occasionally to move her leg or arm. But other than that she stayed perfectly still.

When the villagers woke up the woman was right where she was when they fell asleep. The women in the village never did anything without their husbands or fathers permission, and that was something the men rarely gave unless it benefited them. And this did not benefit them. So the villagers watched from the windows or the fields they worked at. The villagers watched the woman, the woman watched the lake. Then, the mist slowly crawled over the mountains toward the woman. A white cloak, obscuring everything it passed over. As the mist inched closer to the woman, she stood up and spread her arms wide, inviting the mist towards her. When the mist finished embracing the woman in its tight hug, it began to leave. To wherever it came from. It left the lake and the village, hiding behind the mountains. And it took the woman with it. The woman disappeared. She came with the mist and left with it.

So she was passed down for generations, “If you’re naughty the lady by the lake will get you.” A threat to get the children to brush their teeth. The story evevolved over they years, growing arms and legs. Eventually the woman adopted the name ‘The Lady By The Lake.’ Nobody knows where she dissapeared too. Just a children’s tale. The lady by the lake.

I’m finally free. I’m free to do what I want, I can eat whenever I please and whatever I’m craving. I’m no longer shackled to anybody. I am my own person. so why do i feel so empty? __ why do i feel like i have no purpose? __ I push these thoughts aside, storing them in a box and dragging them far, far away. Maybe dig a hole and throw them in. I am no longer anybody’s experiment and I should be happy. so why aren’t i happy? i make these unruly claims with no evidence. __ Anything is better than that, being forced to undergo torturous experiments. And for what? Being shackled to a chair, being fed food laced with little bits of poison, trapped in a building crawling with guards, lest anybody sneak in and kill me. And for who?

Maybe death would have been better. Maybe in death I would have free will. Maybe. 9 years I spent locked in that hell hole. Traded between foster parents like a toy. Before they eventually gave me away. After they decided I could never be like a daughter. After they decided I shouldn’t be forced upon anyone else. “We can’t ruin anybody else’s life like you’ve ruined ours.” I was 9 when I was given to the lab. I was 13 when they decided to stop treating me like a human. 15 when they started torture. 18 when they finally gave me my freedom. 18 when I was tossed onto the street like a rag doll with nowhere to go.

So I sit here today. Underneath a bridge. Pigeons my only companions. With nothing to do except wait for deaths cold embrace.

I remeber they would try to see how far they could push me before I felt pain. They got tasers and put them to the highest setting. To see if I could withstand it. ** **I remeber they would try to force my mind to escape. To jump somewhere else. To leave my body. They would see how long I could stay away for. They prodded my body, whilst I watched. They got whips and beat my body. Just to see if I could still feel it. They starved me. Trying to see how long my body could survive for. They starved me for days.

But yet I feel nothing now. I feel no overwhelming emotions. I feel an absence. I feel a dark abyss where my feelings should be. I feel nothing but pain. A dull throbbing on the edge of my consciousness. Night without moon. A star without planets. A home without a person. I am an ocean filled with nothing but pain. I learnt to throw my wishes away long ago. But today I wish for one thing. I wish for release. Whatever that may be. Whatever it includes. I wish for release.

Today I saw a unicorn. It was trotting down the pathway that leads to the village, it’s impossibly white mane floating in the air gracefully. It’s horn shone in the sun, blinding me slightly. It flicked its tail and stopped walking, I got chills as it looked towards me, it’s onyx eyes looked into mine, no, it’s onyx eyes looked through mine. And it smiled. I swear to god it smiled at me. It smiled at me and I could feel all the colour leave my face. I blinked and it was gone. I rubbed my eyes, but nothing happened._ Here one moment, gone the next. _ I was meeting my friends for coffee and didn’t mention a thing. Trick of the light. A really, really convincing trick of the light.

I brush my teeth by the bathroom sink like always, but today something feels off. I’ve felt like this all morning but I can’t pinpoint what feels weird. So I’m going to ignore it, I’m going to pretend everything feels normal. I did not see a unicorn yesterday and today everything is normal. Yes. I spit out the toothpaste, leaning down to ensure it all goes into the sink, and when I look up at the mirror, two ghostly eyes stare into mine. I blink and then they’re gone. Like the unicorn. Here one moment, gone the next. I don’t feel comfortable. I feel as though I’m being watched, “by whom?” The question appears in my mind unbidden, it’s not retorical, the question is expecting an answer. And I don’t have one, nor do I know how to get one. I walk out to the path where I saw the unicorn, half expecting it to be right there, but there’s nothing. The only unusual thing about the path is the tall woman at the end of it. I frown, this path leads to my house, nowhere else. Unless you are coming to visit me, there is no point being down here. And I don’t recognise this woman. She’s wearing a dark purple dress with floral patterns that suits her brown skin nicely. Her black hair bobs just below her chin as she turns to face me. Her eyes, her eyes are the ones I saw in the mirror, and she smiles, exactly like the unicorn. I keep my eyes open staring at her slack jawed, and I feel my heart begin to pound and my blood rushing through my veins faster than usual. My head feels heavy, it feels so heavy. I feel my heart pounding and I think I’ve already mentioned that but I don’t care. And I can’t see straight I can’t think straight and then she’s gone. The woman disappears like everything. _Here one moment, gone the next. _ I fall to my knees and upend the meagre contents of my stomach onto the gravel beside me. But that doesn’t cut it. I shoot my hands out to keep me from falling as I vomit more and more out until I’m dry heaving, until I can’t breathe. Until I decide I can’t take it anymore. I feel sick, I feel so, so _sick. _I feel uncomfortable in my own house, I feel eyes watching me, I feel these eyes _judging _me and I can’t take it anymore. So I stand up and I run. I run into the hills. I weave through the trees protecting our little village. I run until I feel my legs about to collapse, I run until I can’t breathe. I run until I can’t see the village behind us. But it feels like no matter how far I run I can’t seem to escape. I can’t escape what’s watching me.

So I walk. I walk until I can run, and when I can’t run I walk. I walk until the sky turns black, I walk until the sky turns blue again. I am a shell, devoid of emotion, with only one programme, walk. I walk until my legs give up on me. Until my body gives up on me. I walk until I reach a valley, surrounded the by the stars. _The stars, _I think, _are our real guardian angels. _I fall down to the wet grass, and I realise how cold I am. I am so, so cold. Maybe, maybe if I can fall asleep I won’t feel so cold. Or hungry, I realise. I’m so cold and so hungry, and I’m tired. I’m so damn tired. So yes, I think a sleep will help. And then I can wake up and run from the eyes. I can wake up and maybe everything will be fine. Maybe. So I close my eyes and curl my knees to my chest. The cold cuts through me. So cold it stops feeling like cold, just a sensation, right on the edge of your consciousness. And then I don’t feel cold. I don’t feel tired or hungry. I feel nothing. And in my final moments I realise, I am nothing. Here one moment, gone the next.

Everywhere I look I see colours. Bright colours, dark colours, saturated colours, desaturated colours. But I can never seem to find my own colour.

I
f l o a t Through the air. As I watch these people go about their business. I float, and I watch, and I think, and I feel. Float, watch, think, feel. But some days I think to myself “Am I really feeling?” And some days it doesn’t feel like I’m thinking either. Some days feel like float, watch, and others feel like float, watch, think. But I’m always floating, even when all I want is to crash down. And I’m always watching, watching the blobs of colour and the shells that carry them. I’m watching for a blob of colour with no shell. And maybe it’s watching for a shell with no colour.

Today I float and watch. Yesterday I float, watch, feel. Tomorrow I float, watch, think.

But most days I just float, watch.

I float without thinking and watch without feeling. I am an empty shell, watching what could be instead of what is.

Today I float, watch, think. And today I think I see a colour. I think I see a colour with no shell. Today I float, watch, think and feel. I feel my heart beating for the first time. I feel my lungs expand searching for oxygen. I feel, myself. And when I look down I see a colour so rich, so stunning. I feel myself fall. I fall down, Down Down. And I can’t stop. But I feel so full and happy. I don’t even register when I hit the ground. My prayers have been answered. I have finally crashed down.