My mind is a dark void

My first ever piece published.

Tap.

Tap tap.

Tap tap tap.

“Who’s it?”

“It’s me, your dark thoughts.”

“The void who visits me everyday?”

“The void who visits you everyday.”

I open the door to nothing and everything at once. It permits itself in my subconscious, grinning a sinister smile, eyes sparkling in feasting from my mind. From the gray mass which molded the pathway to my subconscious, which molded everything thinkable and unthinkable for me.

“May I sit?”

I toil to voice a no, yet my lips crease and swirl until it can express a yes.

The void sits itself on a sacred chair of ethereal sentiments, which I fail to view, as my eyes blindfold itself from such.

The chair douses itself in charcoal, which I fail to view. The grin of the void grows wider, nearly extending to its ear.

“So let’s talk.”

I forge no reply, as if my ears have been brimming with tinnitus of darkness. 

“I know you’re hearing,” The void speaks again, viewing as I am immobile. 

“You know I am here to eat your mind,” The void ceases to speak for a moment as I nod my head inadvertently. 

“Great!” The void speaks with a grin, “What affliction did you have today?”

“It’s all the same,” My lips forge the words in staccato, a profound tone out of tune, out of reach. 

“Come on, there must be something new,” The void conjures a glass of fine brew as it levitates beside it.

“My sister hit me today,” My reflexive lips voice out, lingering at the third word. 

“That’s really new,” The void laughs in cacophony, causing the circumference to levitate a bit before it reaches equilibrium. 

“Is this the same autistic sister you have?” The void asks before sipping on the brew.

“Yes,” I voice, “She hits mom everyday but,” ceasing it as I swallow, “She hit me today.”

“Is this what I see on your right hand?” The void gestures at the right hand, “Three gashes?”

My hand upheaves itself, as if it can be viewed through my blanketed eyes, the crimson cascading not too many long ago. 

My eyes enclose before opening them to jet black. 

“I see,” The void voices, eyes enlarging, “Did you relish it?”

My throat is tense, “N-no.”

“If you relished it, I may not have come to you, would I?” The cacophonous laugh resounds in the air again.

I fail to answer verbally.

“At times, silence is consent,” The void grins as it sips on the rest of the brew, before conjuring it to itself. Nothing. 

“But in this case, you’re agreeing with me,” The void voices as my lips are ajar before they close, failing to voice. A single profundity of my vocals fail to emanate from my insides.

The airway perceives to be tightened as I toil to breathe, laborious in and out whilst the void stands itself from the chair, the rouge cushion and headrest hashed and tattered, the ivory hue of the wood now ebony, several poison ivies manifesting itself around it.

The cacophonous laugh of the void grows in magnitude as the tinnitus brims in my ears, the poison ivies gliding itself around my bodice, my feet, my tresses as I perceive a forceful pull on my crown, nearly pulling my visuals from myself. 

The void glides near me, the grin exhibiting itself amidst the laughs, as its hand glides across the apple of my left cheek, viewing into my panic stricken eyes with his glistening own.

“Tonight I shall feast upon the darkness inside your mind! Again!,” As its hand grasps the poison ivy on my crown, molding itself into it, the green turning jet black. The void molds itself as the poison ivy with whichever left as the rest forges a cosmic hole in my head, as crimson drips on the ground with no solid. 

The cacophonous laughs along the crimson emulsifies into one, and a deathly scream escapes from my mind, as I am engulfed by the heartless.