They started out as whispers, gradually getting louder. They were the voices of everyone she had ever shattered mentally, the voices of those she impersonated without caring about how their family would feel. They asked if she regretted it, she didn’t, and they wouldn’t. Shut. Up.
A piercing shriek, not a scream, never scream darling, that means they’ve won, crawled up her throat and erupted out of her mouth.
It felt like she was trying to swallow glass.
The ground began to crack, windows started to shatter, buildings started to cave in, and she didn’t stop shrieking.
She could feel liquid dripping down from her nose and if the faint taste of iron in the back of her throat was anything to go by, she’d soon be coughing up blood as well.
Still the terrible shrieking sound kept erupting out of her mouth with no signs of stopping. Her vision began to blur as the amount of oxygen she was able to take in got lower and lower.
As quickly as it starts, it ends. And she is left with a mind that is blessedly empty of any voice but her own.
cheshireinunderland 