The End

What happens when the voice inside your head has no hold over you anymore? When you're so consumed by everything around you, that you've been enslaved by your very own mind? What happens when the words that come out of your mouth don't feel like yours to begin with? Who do you turn to then? Is there salvation? The mere thought of being hopelessly corrupted cripples you, when your insides writhe and fight against you. You see no door that can possibly lead you away from yourself. This helplessness is man's greatest fear. This is what breaks him, but this is also what puts him back together. Because once you're broken, what other path could you take but go back to where you came from? You look for a new beginning, with nothing to lose, all your fears obliterated because you've already lived through the worst one. When you're shattered to an infinite limit, there is nothing more you can do, but get the fuck up, find the broken pieces and put them back together. Because quitting has never been an option.

"You're not brittle, you know", he says.

"I know", I say, wiping the last of the tears from my cheeks.

I'm already broken.

I turn my back on him just as my lips curve upward in the form of a smile.