Ravenous Roulette

Everyone’s heard of Russian Roulette.

Beep.

The clicking of the barrel as it spins.The awed silence of the crowd as the gun is raised. The snap as the safety catch disengages.

Beep.

Then the pressing of the trigger ­ a moment where everything could go horribly wrong. Laughter rises, clapping, betting with one’s life is an amusing ordeal.

Beep.

The gun passes hands, the second one places the cold gun against their temple. Then a third, and a fourth. Again, and again. Luck being their only hope.

I didn’t have such luck.

Beep.

Then again, I didn’t play Russian Roulette. I made a bet with something else. Something much more dangerous than a loaded gun. Where no luck will grant you a quick death.

Beep.

For me, when I lost the game, it was much more painful. It started with the dizziness, which began to lace the edges of my vision. An embroidery to the pain which soon blossomed inside.

Beep.

Mind constantly torn in two, hatred pouring out from every sweaty pour. Heartbeat racing, stopping, then jumping back with the rest of a tortured body.

Beep.

I decayed slowly, from inside out. The mind games destroyed my sanity first. Then went my outside. Dry, pulsating blue veins appeared on my skin. An ugly pattern, creeping across me, encasing me, keeping me from shattering into pieces.

Beep.

“There goes the snowangel,” they used to say. A heap of bones, blue­lipped and silent. The personification of death.

Beep.

Their stares burned into me every day, until finally, my organs gave out.
Beep.

It was a quiet day, my body resting in the white hospital bed. Wilted roses sat on my bedside.

Beep.

My heart just kept stopping. They could do nothing.

Beep.

And I’d finally found out that I’d lost the game.

Beeeeep.

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6 thoughts on “Ravenous Roulette

    1. I have experienced what I write about and so, sadly, this is one that is almost completely true (as I sit here typing this then clearly the ending does not prove correct, but the main basis is) and stems from the most pain-ridden place inside my mind and memory…

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      1. oh my! you have really been in a dark place…if I feel this much chill from reading, I wonder how dreary and alone you must have felt.

        I hope this is not the case right now? that you have found a way to claw of the darkness, and that things are much brighter now?

        I also hope, writing about it doesn’t take you back to that darkness….I hope you are much stronger now..

        please tell me you are…

        Liked by 1 person

  1. I am at the edge of the abyss right now, not as deep as I have been before, but still the dark tendrils wrap lovingly around my wrists. Have you ever been in such a dark place? You seem to understand so well that I feel like you might have.

    I am stronger now, although there are good and bad days as cliche as that sounds. Sometimes it feels too much, like I’m back in that black box, and other times I feel like I truly am alright, that I will never be caught again.

    Writing helps me though, even if it is dark and full of pain, it removes the feeling from inside me and projects them out so that they can’t rot my insides like before. At least now secrets can’t fester beneath translucent skin and instead can be free to roam.

    Like

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