She Has A Pretty Face Though (Part XXVIII)

Disclaimer

The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog.  While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience.  Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections.  Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.  

This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author.  Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts and webseries!

———

For the next several hours, he slowly slipped in and out of consciousness.  Because he had no physical state, it was nearly impossible for him to get any solid length of sleep. He had no eyelids to block out the light.

Was it even possible to sleep here?  What was happening felt more like he was withdrawing into himself to regather his strength.  The manipulating of his own body, as well as drawing himself closer to the portals that were his eyes, were both very taxing. He felt very much a static image of himself and it frightened him.

His coming and going reminded him of the time he had stayed up an entire week working on his project in the den.  The work was tedious, but very easy to lose track of time while doing which is exactly what had happened.  Because his mother spent most of her time at work, she didn’t notice his absence and his bitch of a sister couldn’t have cared less.   Surviving on only bottled water and crackers…

“…follow the…crumbs I’ve left behind…”

He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of the voice.  But, had the ‘other’ spoken, or was he merely remembering?  No, if it was, he would have felt the words as they coursed through him.  So then it was the latter, but, he wasn’t sure what this was supposed to mean.  In this prison, inside of his mind, he only saw what the other wanted him to see.  At first, he had been haunted by his dreams.  But the longer he spent here, the less he dreamed.

He began to grow angry.  It welled up from deep inside of him and empowered him with its raw energy.

How dare this ‘other’ take control of him and force him to watch through his own eyes as it enjoyed what was his!

His anger poured into the infinite cup that was his soul, slowly filling it with an all too familiar rage. Though he had no form, he felt his temperature beginning to rise as he focused on thoughts of the usurper.

Who does this thing think its dealing with?!

It was a feeling he had recently experienced, one which he had focused on the family dog, and it had once again consumed him.  Though he would never know it, the ethereal form of his consciousness had lost all of its translucent properties and had begun to swell inside of his prison.

Suddenly, the vast reaches of his his mind were more confining.  He could see its walls around him and they reminded him of the time he held a pen-light against the tip of his finger.

“I’m taking back what’s mine,” he projected as he approached the inside of his eyes.

“Wai-what,” came the sleepy response of the other, but it was too late.  Scott’s soul slammed home and he smiled with grim satisfaction as he felt the violent ejection of the other from its perch.

He was laying down and the ceiling above him was unfamiliar.  Something heavy pressed against his his right side, and for a brief moment he panicked when he couldn’t move his arm, until he realized what it was that had him pinned.

Her hot, fetid breath blasted his newly regained senses, causing to first groan in disgust and then recoil away from her.

“Ohhh, gross,” he moaned as he carefully slid out from under her.  When she didn’t stir, he silently got out of the bed and began gathering his clothes from the floor.  It took him only a few minutes to get dressed, and once finished, he glared at her sleeping mass while rubbing his sore cheek.

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