Amson, 18, "Finally, The Will of the Lucid"

"I'm sorry..." An unfamiliar voice called to me in sleep. "I'm so sorry."

Lying within that void, I closed my eyes, unwilling to see that nothing anymore. I didn't want to hear those words; they were useless, weak and pleasant lies. Nobody was sorry for me, nor was I much sorry for myself. I'd allowed what happened to happen, and it was through that willingness to sacrifice my own mind to please people that I'd ended up this way:

Broken without the will to fix myself.

"What's done was done." "It is what it is." Those were the comfortable falsehoods that rattled the edge of my mind until it was on the verge of another collapse. I was irredeemable; I'd done that to Baun, whether intentionally or not.

"It's not your fault..." The voice told me as if finally speaking rather than throwing words to me. "You could not have known--"

It was the voice of a woman, a woman I knew I'd never met. That fact made me all the more angry. They were a faceless voice, yet they thought they knew me-- they knew how I felt. All the pieces that I, myself, broke with my own two hands won't be mended by those wishful words. They were only an expired ticket for me to "forget" the wrongs I've done, ignoring my actions as if they were right.

I would NEVER accept that.

"But I did know!" I yelled. "I did! Who the hell are you to tell me shit about my life?!"

The voice was silent for a while, leaving the space within my mind silent as consequence. That silence was a subtle comfort, and I hoped it'd never be broken.

Finally, I was in some beautifully false sense of peace.

"I am no one..." She said softly. "I... I apologize... I just--"

"Shut up..." I pleaded within the confines of this consciousness. "Just shut up!"

I could feel the cracks form within that space, opening more and more as my voice echoed through it. Yet, I couldn't stop; the emotion wouldn't cease for even a moment. I was helpless, yelling at a figment of my imagination.

In this time of need, I didn't know who I could trust.

"I did everything!" I yelled. "Everything is my fault! Baun and Tora... I'm sure they hate me, especially after who I've tried to force myself to be! I'm just a liar, an irredeemable piece of shit! I can't ignore the sins that've already seeped so deeply into my core!"

The voice was silent, yet nothing changed. I was eternally stuck in that void space.

"Wake me up!" I yelled. "Wake me the fuck up!"

///

Finally, I was awake, but as always, I'd forgotten the dream within that fleeting moment. I knew something had happened the night before, but it wouldn't surface, no matter how hard I tried. I felt the sheets along my skin... I felt them... My heart raced at the thought. These sheets...

They were soiled. I wanted rid of them.

I threw them off of me, flinging them across the room to where I could force myself not to look at them. I looked at my body from my seated position, yet there was no sign of whatever I was looking for. My pants: clean. My body: a little too full of sense. It was as if whatever'd happened never happened; had I truly gone mad?

I peeked to the side of my bed, and there, sat my phone, it's screen dark and tempting as always. That phone... It being there reminded me. We'd thrown a party... yet it being here was even more strange. That phone was supposed to be at Tora's place; her dad took it...

I grabbed it, turning it on and allowing the light to engulf my vision completely. The screen was undamaged, as if untouched, and a boatload of notifications filled the screen with just that one day apart.

"2 Missed Calls from Baun..." The message struck fear through my soul, throwing the phone from my hand.

For some reason, I'd had my fill of seeing that phone.

///

I exited the room, soaking in what I was sure would be remnants of the party, but the upstairs hallway was seemingly untouched. The bathroom was spotless, the carpet floors were more spotless than usual, free of stains completely, and the rooms were empty, no sign of even Lorelai.

Her room, outside of the snake and tarantula, was devoid of any evidence that she'd even been there. I looked upon the room, wondering if something might jump out at me, but nothing came.

Suddenly, a pain, a shooting, piercing pain in my brain, forced my hand to my forehead, and I winced, trying to fight it off. Did I hit my head on something; I was almost sure of it. Along with the pain in my head, my back was killing me, slowly wearing me down physically. I nearly fell to my knees, groaning and hoping it would subside, and it did after a while. I panted, gasping for air in an attempt to calm that loud beating in my heart.

I felt like I was having some kind of unending heart attack.

My thoughts were frantic, and my senses, although there, were almost too potent, hurting me with too much stimulation. It was a pain just observing my surroundings, let alone walking. Still, I couldn't just sit there, and for some reason, after the pain subsided, I'd recognized it as a welcome change of pace.

I closed Lore's door behind me, and as I looked down the long staircase, a haunting feeling seeped throughout my body. The stairs down felt so vast, but I knew I had to descend them, the sounds calling to me. There were small clanks of silverware down there, signs that Lorelai might still be here. I wanted to see her face; maybe that would bring ease to my soul.

Yet, I still had to descend this staircase, just one step.

I took it, one after the other. I felt the agonizing pain with each step, but the feeling was rejuvenating; I liked it. Maybe I was just going mad, or just maybe, it was the punishment I was looking for. One step to equalize the things I've done to everything I've loved and everything I've touched.

With each step, my smile grew, but once I reached the bottom, I was empty, even more broken than when I stood eagerly at the top.

There, Lore was, washing dishes as small evidence of the party still littered the living room. Small bits of trash were scattered along the floor, but by looking at it, I could tell that she'd cleaned the majority.

'How long was she awake?' I asked myself.

Her expression, a trapped, unsettlingly empty expression, told a story of it's own. After looking closer at her, she wasn't even washing the dishes anymore, just allowing the water to run along her hands and stimulate them. She stood with that unbroken, spacy stare, yet when I took a step, she immediately took notice of me, her eyes locking onto mine with a feeling I could've never imagined seeing attached to her body.

"Amson..." She muttered weakly.