Chapter Text
I was raised in a house.
Not big. Not small.
Just me and my mother.
We would watch the sun rise on the porch.
We would sit in the garden at dusk.
She always warned of failure.
Of folks who were worse than you.
Who would drag you down with them.
I suppose it is ironic, my job.
Working at this place.
Burning my tongue on scalding coffee.
My childhood promise to never have caffeine is long forgotten.
I wonder what my mother would think.
--
I stand in hell.
It crawls in my skin.
It speaks in my voice.
I can feel it shifting, writhing.
My heart is beating too quickly.
My lungs refuse oxygen.
My body screams for salvation I know will never come.
My head is loud.
I stand in the one place designed to help me.
--
I kneel to false gods.
They are true to me.
They stand tall.
They bellow words incomprehensible.
I do everything for them.
I can feel their gaze.
They aren't real.
They aren't real.
What am I doing?
My hands are caked in blood that isn't mine.
Why wont it wash off?
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