I can hear that buzzing, swarming, insect sound. It far, but not far enough. I gotta find a way out...
I pace, I can not stand to stop moving. My legs hurt. No, don't notice now. How can you see me here? How did you find me? That smell...that stench! If I were to close my eyes right now, I would believe that there was a boar lying dead right here. Blood spilled on the tile, meat seeping out of an open wound like crushed blackberries. Dead blood, the way you can smell the process of fermentation already beginning, freshly spilled...I can almost hear the flies laying their eggs and the maggots growing within it's disembowelled remains. It seems to be getting closer and closer to me. Dead blood, that smell...it's you.
Search for the seem. Need to find the seem. Feels like the walls are getting smaller...
Cocksucker. Bastard. Slut. Fa... It all ticked in my head at once. "I'm not a whore. I'm not a whore. I'm not a whore. I'm not a wh--" I chanted over and over again as some morbidly obese single would at a Weight Watchers pep rally. Your very favourite homosexual-self-pitying-self-loathing- mentally-disturbed-untrusting-immoral- painted-up-whore-of-a-pretty-boy has fallen to his knees once again and is scratching nervously at his arms as if coming down from a high. Happy?
The queen bee has gotten her way. Real noble kind of way to make me feel insecure, bastard.
You've been staring at me for the past while, lips pressed tightly together, forming no emotion. Say what your gonna fucking say already. I'm tired of waiting. So you open your mouth finally. Swarms of locusts torrent out and cover me. I can feel it crawling, pricking. Covering and flooding my mouth, my nose, my ears. They cover me till I can no longer move and no longer breath.
I fucking knew this was going to happen.
Has progress been made? Un-fucking-likely.