Lay Them Down

Based on body horror and the emotions I go through during a panic attack. Please provide with caution if you also experience anxiety.

Only stare blankly ahead. The surrounding grain will bend and twist within a wind’s grasp. They will never quite reach down to touch the face. Dirt and rocks will press up against the back. The dampness of the earth will start cooling the body and slowly soaking into the thin fragments of the clothing worn.

Listen to the rustling of hidden creatures. Running through the field as fast as they can. Moving away from their own fears. Hear their fear scream at the back of their minds. Gripping the brain and adding more and more pressure until It feels as if a shotgun was used to shatter the skull and assault the brain. The fragments reaching through the cerebral cortex and making their home just under the skin

It is impossible to remember walking to the field. It is possible to remember the feeling of asphalt under bare feet. The numbness forced upon the body by an icy road. The road never stopped and never came here. But it was lead to here. It was grabbed at by the feet and was tempted at the idea untrue dreams.

It is possible to remember getting up. To remember home. The kicked off topsheet that hung off the bedside, the unfolded laundry spread over the floor, the books sitting near the foot of the bed. Remember opening your eyes and feeling warmth spread throughout your body. Gentle fingers starting at your cheeks. Then the feeling of emptiness as the hands left to push back strands of stray hair. Then pausing, as if determining what was really inside. If the head was truly filled with the hopes and dreams of tomorrows that would never come.

Feel the hands at the cheeks again.. Unknown nails dig into the skin. Pulling it away slowly. Ripping open the object known as a face. The blood vessels will snap and pop as they are torn away from each other. The skin will tear down farther, closer to the neck. The hands will stop and admire the blood pouring off of the face.

Do not move.

It is necessary not to move.

Teeth will be exposed as it grabs the lower lip, making the mouth gape open. The exposed teeth will no longer be white. Blood will mix into saliva and will begin filling the mouth with the bitter taste of iron. It will leave the mouth and go back to the cheeks. Gauging them open even farther, then connecting the empty holes to the lips. Giving a grotesque Glasgow Smile. How fitting. The neck is the next target. It will slowly wrap the fingers around it, pressing until both hear the audible collapse of a windpipe. Now there isn’t much time left. The lungs are already burning. As if they had been forced to breath in the ashes of those who have come before. Soon it is impossible to feel anything except the burning of the lungs.

What a shame.

It can’t, it shouldn’t, go on for much longer. The hands will wander down until it reaches the legs. Each tendon deserves to be cut. Each bone deserves to be shattered. Each fragment of skin deserves to be torn to shreds and tossed to the side like the bits of worthless scrap that they are. Each second deserves to be overflowing with the pain and suffering the body deserves. The ribs deserve- no -they need to be crushed. The skin at the nails dug into and ripped away all the way up to the elbow. The fingernails twisted out of their home in the hands. Those hands beaten until the skin is blue, black, yellow, red, purple, and then swollen until they’re unrecognizable. It is all needed. It is needed for the meat of the body strung apart.

Let the blood rush through the ears for a final time. Keep the eyes focused on the space in front of them. The open sky. The moon, and each distant star. They are the witnesses needed. Stare at the moon and each star until the pain makes the eyes black out. Prevent the eyes from seeing themselves become brutalized. Let the bits and fragments of the leftover body become eaten by the earth. Sinking and becoming what is needed for the others to wake up for another day.

Wake up and feel fingers on their cheeks. Wake up and be coaxed out of bed by a friendly face that whispers lies of untrue dreams. Have their feet lead them through their hallways, down their stairs, outside their doors and into the night. Let the moon and stars be their witness as the cold from the asphalt assaults the base of their feet. Let them be lead down the road and lead them off at the fork. Lead them through the slews, the marshes, the oceans and the worlds with days that they will never remember. Lay them down and press their cheeks. Lay them down and repeat.

It is deserved.

It is needed.

Lay them down.

They want you to. They want to scream into your ears and assault your brain with temptations of what must be done. Every time you lay down your head they will be there.

Screaming.

Author's Note

I'm sorry if I have issues with grammar! I would love to hear about the overall quality of the piece.

Reviews

[sadpiskella]

I loved this, even though it isn't my kind of story. The writing was amazing and very true to the argument. I will love to see you write something that isn't like this.

[Relic]

This is really great writing that exposes the fear and dread that floods the brain and the thoughts that can debilitate. I can see a trace of poe in this.

Great emotional write.