bedtime - 1/17/2002

ed. note - Cruising through some random entries on favorites, and they triggered something (so, if you're someone with DID, this may trigger you.... and for you Singletons, triggers are, probably obviously, certain things with certain associations that tend to set off specific alters or memories). Sadly, the person that wrote the triggering entry I know IRL, though I don't think she knows that I know where her OD is. *sighs a bit* She'd probably be very upset knowing that an entry that actually had some well-written imagery set off something this....... it's not upsetting, but scarey. I'll admit that. It's not her fault though, it's her diary for crying out loud. Imagery that normally wouldn't affect me (I mean, this was BENIGN) just flipped a switch. No big deal, we study it and move on.

This is what came out, 5:41 - 6AM. Not all of the plain text is me, it's an amalgum of the smaller voices that had so many speaking at once there was no way to tell the difference. I tried to edit and point out who was saying what via fonts..... but nothing else was changed, added, or rearranged.

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and so it begins, a low rumble, the scrape of something outside that brings to mind a door being pried open, so very slowly, so that you don't really hear but but you know its tehre and you know its coming and you know exactly how many shifts of weight take it to the bed. you thought it was all over. your bed. your haven. but not any longer.

a pillow muffles the screams.

face down, biting into it, teeth gritting so hard your jaw will break.

waiting for it to be over.

screams mumblig into whimpers. sniveling and whimpering to pull away and curl up, protectively, but there is nothing to protect you

nothing that will let you get away from what sits at the edge of your bed, now, fingers stroking through silken hair, touching and caressing, exploring, petting as if some fucking cat had taken your place.

do you want me to purr motherfucker?

well I can't

and it's not over yet.

the bed twitches in a steady rhythm, hand resting on your hip..... or lower back...... you can see the shadow moving up and down, against the far wall even....... his breath is even, matching that rhythmic twitch. you know it's going to happen again, he's preparing for it, it's not over yet, just one more time and then you can go back to sleep.

and it starts again, hiding your face in that pillow just like so many other children but why isn't the monster going away? why isn't it working? why is this happening...... this can't be happening.

over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over

and the cycle never stops.

why cannot they understand

no one saw, no one believed, no one even noticed. not until they walked in on it

i don't want you to touch me i don't want you to hug me - FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT HUG ME, JUST STAY AWAY - i don't want you to tell me it's going to be okay i don't want you to tell me it's going to work out i don't want any of your condescending bullshit that's supposed to make me feel better because it doesn't it only makes me feel like more of a victim that needs to be console and babied and taken care of and maybe if i'm called sweetie or honey enough times that it's gonna sugar coat everything and i just won't think about it anymore and everything will be better, just like you said it will, RIGHT?

i'll just forget about it all.

for CHRIST'S sake will you just go away and quit trying to find out if i'm allright?

OF COURSE I'M NOT ALLRIGHT!

I WOULDN'T BE HERE IF I WAS ALLRIGHT. I WOULD NOT BE QUESTIONING MY SANITY AND RELEVANCE IF I WAS ALLRIGHT. I WOULD NOT HATE AND HURT SO MUCH IF I WAS ALLRIGHT. AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT!