It hadn't been immediate. A little tiny itch upon her arm and then her side. She had waved it off believing it to have been still healing skin from her injuries. And then she awoke, stretched out over her book and letter covered desk. There it was again.
Slowly she breathed in and then released it, laughing quietly to herself as she rubbed a hand through her hair.
"Oh Spirit… Maybe I should get some of tha-" She stopped speaking and moved to tear off her shirt, beginning to scratch insistently at her tattooed, scarred skin that covered her back. The itching had returned and this time in full force.
Like bug bites. That's what it felt like to her, but it was the beginning of October, the bugs were dying or going off into hibernation. And yet here she was, scrambling to scratch and claw her skin. She hissed as the pain blossomed, felt the blood beginning to dribble down, but she only scratched harder. Pulling her hands away, she moved quickly out of the room, stumbling into the door before yanking it open.
Her bare feet tripped over each other as she slammed into the wall outside of her study.
"Oh Spirit… Oh f**king Spirit." She dragged her hands down her face, shifting them to begin scratching at her arms again. Long awful red lines were left in the wake of her scratching.
"Disgusting. What a disgrace." Hissed a voice.
"Leave me alone… Leave me…" The words spilled from her lips only to mingle with a whimper that escaped her. Her nails shifted around as another wave came upon her.
"Leave me alone. Leave me alone! Is that all you have to say to me?" The voice again spoke, it's tone ever mocking. This voice she knew all too well. Ever grating and torturing the most private parts of her consciousness.
"You're not real. You're not real. She isn't actually here." She whimpered, her nails continuing to work themselves over her already raw and scratched skin.
"Not real. Not real." Those words became her mantra, both within her head and speaking vocally.
All the while she scratched and clawed, tearing away at her flesh. She was in pure and utter agony, both mentally and physically.
Her flesh was being scratched raw as she battled the disease, the exhaustion and the ghost that was beginning to haunt her once more.
An itch.
A frown creased over her exhausted and scarred features as she shifted her left hand to her right arm. Scrapping her nails over the skin, she scratched hard.Scratch, scratch, SCRATCH SCRATCH.
So damned itchy… Maybe it's the sh- "O-ouch." The pained noise escaped her as she tore her nails from the reddening skin. She had scratched her skin raw, small droplets of blood dripping from the scratch marks.Slowly she breathed in and then released it, laughing quietly to herself as she rubbed a hand through her hair.
"Oh Spirit… Maybe I should get some of tha-" She stopped speaking and moved to tear off her shirt, beginning to scratch insistently at her tattooed, scarred skin that covered her back. The itching had returned and this time in full force.
Like bug bites. That's what it felt like to her, but it was the beginning of October, the bugs were dying or going off into hibernation. And yet here she was, scrambling to scratch and claw her skin. She hissed as the pain blossomed, felt the blood beginning to dribble down, but she only scratched harder. Pulling her hands away, she moved quickly out of the room, stumbling into the door before yanking it open.
Her bare feet tripped over each other as she slammed into the wall outside of her study.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Scratch, scratch.
Scratch, scratch.
Her nails dragged up the bare skin of her shoulders as she eventually made it into the bathroom. Panting, she dropped her trembling hands to her sides and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Raising her hands upwards, she dragged her eyelids downwards a bit, staring horridly at her bloodshot and yellowing eye whites."Oh Spirit… Oh f**king Spirit." She dragged her hands down her face, shifting them to begin scratching at her arms again. Long awful red lines were left in the wake of her scratching.
"Disgusting. What a disgrace." Hissed a voice.
"Leave me alone… Leave me…" The words spilled from her lips only to mingle with a whimper that escaped her. Her nails shifted around as another wave came upon her.
"Leave me alone. Leave me alone! Is that all you have to say to me?" The voice again spoke, it's tone ever mocking. This voice she knew all too well. Ever grating and torturing the most private parts of her consciousness.
"You're not real. You're not real. She isn't actually here." She whimpered, her nails continuing to work themselves over her already raw and scratched skin.
"Not real. Not real." Those words became her mantra, both within her head and speaking vocally.
All the while she scratched and clawed, tearing away at her flesh. She was in pure and utter agony, both mentally and physically.
Her flesh was being scratched raw as she battled the disease, the exhaustion and the ghost that was beginning to haunt her once more.
