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Hi guys, this is a snippet story thingy that I did for a prompt. The prompt was you’re the evil twin and your good side comes to kill you. But instead I played with instead of evil or was the negative emotions. As someone split themselves apart of the so called ‘bad’ emotions.
I know it’s a bit clunky, but that was kinda the point. Idk, I’d take opinions 🤷♀️
TW – it briefly mentions self harm
Tick. Tick.
Suffocating. Drowning.
Tick. Tick.
Breaking. Bleeding.
Tick. Tick.
Numbly shattering.
Tick. Tick.
The clock kept on every second.
Tick.
Pathetic.
Tick.
Weak.
Tick. Tick.
Never enough.
Tick. Tick.
Wasting my life.
Tick. Tick.
My heart slammed in rhythm.
Was I even real? Was I even here? Is this all there is? Ticking of time as my life goes by?
Rap rap.
I stopped in thought. Was there a knock? I slowly sat up, feeling my muscles protest in pain. I registered the feeling of the cool sheets on my hand, squinting in the dark. Was my mind playing tricks? Or was there really something other than the ticks of dread?
Rap rap.
Again the noise against the door came.
“Kit?” Came a cheery voice that was smooth as a canary.
I cringed. Please no. Please go away. I knew there was no hope that she would.
“I know you’re in there, Kit. Though, I almost thought I wouldn’t. ”
I grit my teeth, chest clenching as tingles of memory pain covered my arms in lines. The blade had been gone for a year but the thoughts still lingered.
I responded roughly, feeling as if I hadn’t used my voice in years. “I-I wouldn’t do that.” Wouldn’t? Or couldn’t? My mind mocked back. Maybe my cowardice was good for something. I was too afraid to. I couldn’t do that. But was wasting away any better?
“Please, can you open the door?” Her voice made me want to vomit, just as silky as when she mentioned the sick thought that I might’ve been dead.
Storm clouds rumbled in my stomach, but I know the sooner I did it, the sooner she’d leave me alone.
I shuffled to the door, opening it with a loud creak. There she was. The happiness. The joy. Motivated. Optimistic. Perfect braid, and a bright yellow dress. A knife in hand.
Wait. What?
I did a double take. But she was indeed holding a knife in her hand at her side.
“Why?” The storm clouds in my stomach changed to worms.
“You know why. You ruined us.”
“I could say the same thing about you…” I mumbled, sparks of energy twitching my fingers.
“No. You ruined our life. I had to cut you off to save Kit. You were gonna make us end up in a Hell hole wasting away. You knew that the due date was coming but you still didn’t do it, you let your fear of failure make you procrastinate till you never try. You missed the job. You missed the internship. You missed piano class. You cut off friends and made fights to protect yourself from getting hurt again by hurting them first. You watched your life crumble and refused to ask for help. You didn’t sleep afraid of the anxiety and nightmares that you didn’t tell anyone about so you performed badly the next day. You ruined everything!” Her voice got to a screech that I didn’t know was possible without the ability to be angry.
“And everything was going great, until now it’s not and it must be somehow your doing! Just cutting our connection isn’t enough. I have to kill you.”
I blinked. Torn in between fear and horror or just numbly acceptance. “O-okay.”
“Okay? I say all that and that I’m gonna kill you and all you have to say is okay?!” Her voice hit the screech of a macaw.
“It’s you who’s gonna suffer.” I hesitated, but continued on her confused look. “It’ll hurt, but in the end you’ll suffer. Not me. You’ll have pain, anger, and at some point regret that you’ll never be able to express. It’ll just be locked in you. Impossible to come out.” She gripped the knife harder, as if she was afraid of dropping it.
“And it won’t be alone, will it? There’s already others in the locked case. Other overwhelming things you want to let go.”
“It’s like I just want to..” She looked like she wanted to say more, but hesitated. Unsurity I knew well. It came with all the insecurities. But her? Never.
“But no! I need to be happy, have to-” her hand trembled, “-be perfect.” It sounded more like a question than a statement. Her walls were so close to crumbling but she was holding them together.
I took a deep breath, and took a step closer to her. Her side of me that hated me.
Hated sadness. Hated anger. Hated fear.
Did she know I hated them too? And leaving me with all of them was just as good as death?
“It’s like you just want to.. cry?” I reached out and touched her wrist. Immediately the connection returned, and I felt a rush of sorrow sweep through my fingers to her.
With a dull thump the knife fell on the floor. I kicked it away as she stumbled to the ground, as she began –or rather we– began to cry.
“Don’t you see?” I settled in the dust with her, pulling her into an embrace. “I need you. Just like you need me. ”
Never turn your back on a truce, because no one hesitates on an open opportunity to strike.
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@katthewriter. Girl, that is absolutely beautiful! I love the contrast between the negative and positive and just like….oh, girl, that is so wonderful! Wonderful job! I understand what’s going on and that’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve read in a long time.
Wonderful! 😀
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