Phantom Strings

I was in a haze. I was never in reality my head was foggy. This isn't clearing anything, I don't care. Fuck Polly, I don't care. This man is dangerous, yes, but nothing I can't handle. I suppose this is what I'm supposed to do with myself? See death? Why?

"So sad"

I say to myself with a scoff as I walk out the stall and see myself in the mirror. I lock the main washroom door and brace myself against the sink. I close my eyes, I don't cry. I don't cry. I don't cry. I laugh.

Chant it, make it, fake it.

I force a smile. Open my eyes. A void, a lifeless void. So sad.

I blink, where's the life in my eyes? My brows furrow. Oh right. God hates me. My knees buckle. The cold floor welcomes me like an old friend. Graceful as a dying swan.

Nothing's new, nothing's new, nothing's new.

I pull my knees up to my chest. There's nothing left to shatter—I already exist in fragments. Did I even create the pieces that I'm made of? Wasn't it just forced in me? Shoved in like a glass shard into a child's heart and said, "It'll fit, you have no choice."

It didn't have to fit. There was nothing in there anyway. Everything that came after was made around that shard. My core is void. A hallow experience I didn't have to see.

Did I ever get to choose what I was becoming?

Why is death around me, everywhere I go. Yet it never touches me.

Why?

Simple. They know I'll embrace it.

They want me to suffer.

I never had a choice anyway did I? I'm just going to have to keep reliving blood and water, bloodwater. I'll probably die like that too.

I was just a child.

Who cares? Oh right, my fate does. Care to see me suffer.

I get up and unlock the door with a pleasant smile on my face, 2 women come in giggling and stop when they see me.

I'm a boss.

"Good morning"

The sky is orange, pretty. The clouds form a moving picture painting. I'm aware I look like a goddess in this lighting. The stares from people like they see an angel don't hurt either.

They see an angel. I feel like a corpse in a crown.

I walk back into the board room and see they had left. I sigh.

I drag myself to my cabin. I have to work. At least I have a choice in that matter.

My phone rings. A customer.

"Hello Mr. Rye nice to hear from you again, I presume your further interested in our services?" I say.

"Indeed I am." The old man rumbles. Great! He's a good name to have in our list.