There’s
this black mass in your body,
probably just under your skin that prohibits
anything from leaving. So you’re stuck with this awful black mass and you can’t
even see it, but you can definitely feel it there, because it puts pressure on
your chest and crushes your ribs until they poke through your lungs and you
feel like you’re dying because you can’t breathe, so you’re pretty sure you are
dying.
The
worst feeling in the world is when you know you are suffocating but your airway
is blocked, and so crying for help is not a possibility; you believe that by
weeping tears and sobbing, alarm bells will ring, that sirens will howl.
The
worst feeling in the world is when tears are nothing but a dirge your eyes sing
because you can’t breathe and there’s tightness everywhere; this rope that’s
winding itself around you is like a boa constrictor, and you can’t even see it
or touch it with your shaking fingers because you’re too weak by this point.
There’s
not much oxygen going to your brain, so you’re not thinking properly and you’re
in the bathroom by yourself, staring into the mirror, trying to find the rope,
trying to figure out what this black mass is, and if it is hidden under the
rope, if untying the rope will release it. You know that bruises get his
attention.
You’re
not thinking properly, so you’re hiding behind a door that doesn’t lock,
telling yourself you can get out of this mess and you don’t need to put your
troubles on someone else.
So
you’ve finally got this rope off you, your ribs have settled back into place
and you’re looking in the mirror; you still can’t find that black mass, but you
know it must be magnetized because you’re being pulled toward that rope you
have sitting on the floor beside you.
You
look down at it, you’ve conquered it, you’re standing over it, it’s under you.
You’re standing over it, but you’re not over it.
The
worst feeling in the world is when you can’t find anything to tie that rope to
and hang yourself from, to see what it really feels like to suffocate.