7Blood.
Rich and dark it slides down my chained body. I stand her, two inches from the floor and scream as I am whipped. I am falsely accused but what does anyone really care about when blood is spilled. I watch rivulets of my own blood drip onto the floor from my toes. My back is a mass of pain but I have blocked it. I can no longer feel the wounds. I can no longer feel anything. 'Maybe that will teach you.' he says, throwing down the whip and grabbing his silk shirt from off of the floor.
Pain.
The skin is flayed from my back. I feel the flaps flapping as I am dragged back to my prison. I feel the edges of the red-hot pain and whimper. He grabs my chin and i gaze into his blue flecked silver eyes. 'Next time lie. It won't hurt so much.' he laughs. 'Take her away. Send the doctor to her.' I watch him smile but I see a hint of turmoil in his eyes. It must be hard to whip your own daughter.
Reflection.
I sit and look deep into a candle flame while I am sewn back together. I don't feel it. I don't feel anything and that's what scares me. I should feel anger or at least hatred but I am numb, inside and out. I feel... I feel nothing. I am empty. What used to be there in my mind is gone. I am not crazy, oh no. I am not that lucky. I am just empty of sorrow. Of pain. Of... of self. Maybe I did go crazy back there. Maybe...
Emotion.
Fear. Anger. Madness. Turmoil. Sorrow. Sadness. My father taught me of the pureness of emotions. He taught me of the power emotions bring. Lust is power. Fear is power. I lived my life in sorrow and fear. I know my father is a power hungry hypocrite who only wants what he can't have. Hence the large armies he's thrown around the world like play toys to a spoiled child. For 16 years I had to live under his rules. For 16 years I was a slave to habit. Everyday, day after day, being paraded around for power. It had to stop. And it did.
Sight.
I sit here and watch the guard pace back and forth. He knows I watch him and he is wary. For three days I have sat here, hearkening to the death watches in the walls. I only move when the doctors come to bathe my wounds. I am tired of prison life. Danger lurks around every corner and if your not careful you could end what little time a person has on this planet easily. I'm tired of watching the shadows and the mice. I am tired of the hated friend of mine, sanity. I long to curl up in the arms of His sister, Insanity and sleep forever.
End.
Almost caught it. The web sir ripped, letting the water seep through. Just a little more and I am free. She hugs me close and whispers soothing things to me. I wave goodbye to Sane and go along the path to the end of boredom forever. Let's face it, Sanity is fro people who can make it work. Insanity is much friendlier. She is nice. She's my best friend.