“I Can’t Escape My Own Mind”

″What’s wrong, Fidel? Did your girlfriend decide to ignore you today?” Harry Smith asked smilingly, as he passed his partner’s desk.

“Huh?” The dark-haired man mumbled as looked up, his brow creased, his dark eyes unfocused.

“You keep on checking your cell, and you are not focusing on work.” Harry suddenly frowned. “Hey, man, are you okay?”

“No, I am not.” Fidel Blakemore replied, as he shoved his right hand through his mass of hair. “My sis still hasn’t replied to a message I sent her this morning.”

“Wait, what?” Harry laughed. “Seriously, man. That’s your issue?” Fidel glanced to his friend, and then back to his phone as he started dialing his sister’s number.

“Harry, don’t laugh. You don’t know my sis. If she doesn’t answer quickly, something has to be wrong.”

“Your sister? That social butterfly you introduced me to on Friday?” Harry asked. “The dark-haired gal who garnered attention more quickly than anybody else I have ever seen. She has a very lively personality.”

“Yes. My sis. But, she isn’t a social butterfly, okay?” The call ended, with no answer having been given from the other side. Cursing under his breath, Fidel rose from his chair. “That’s it. I’m going to her now.”

“Fidel, I -”

“Hold the fort for us, won’t you, Harry?” Fidel sidled past his friend, shrugging on his jacket.

“Fidel, wa-” The door slammed shut, shutting Harry up.

Shaking, she pushed her ink-black hair behind her ear. Her dark brown eyes stared back at her. Losing all self-control, she grabbed the empty, coffee-stained cup next to her and hurled it at her image. Glass shattered, but she sat still; not moving. Just watching the pieces fall down.

Her phone vibrated behind her, and she slowly turned to glance over her shoulder. It was a call coming in; from Fidel. The paths on her cheeks were trailed down as the tears trickled down once more.

The vibration ended, but she continued staring at the screen until the light faded from it. Slowly, she broke her legs free from the crossed position that they had been in for the past half hour. She slid off of the double bed, but instead of rising to her feet, she kept to her knees and crawled towards the shattered mirror.

Her tears increased as the images flew through her mind again. The voices started speaking to her; mocking her, taunting her, reminding her.

“It’s hopeless. Hopeless.” She muttered through the tears. Her hand landed on something sharp, and she felt the glass cutting a sizeable length of a mark into her left palm. She stopped, folding her legs under her and sitting down on them. With her unwounded hand, she wiped the tears away; cursing as they seemed to multiply, instead of subside.

“I’m useless. It’s hopeless. There’s no future.” She started chanting it to herself; not that it was necessary. She already believed that lie. She merely chanted it, fearing the silence of her surroundings.

Her vision cleared, but now she saw it. The hazy images around her seemed to become clearer, until she could see the masses of people; pointing at her, speaking of her, laughing at her.

The rest of the room faded into oblivion, as one person stepped forward. The dark-haired woman stared down her nose. She looked down at the mess of a person on the floor; she looked with disdain at the younger image of herself.

“You will never be anything. I was a fool to keep you. I should have kept Fida. At least, she is worth something. What have you ever accomplished? Nothing. And you will never get anything of worth done. You’ll just continue being a burden on me. It is thanks to you that your father died; worrying himself sick over you and this,” her brown eyes spewed fire, “sickening condition. There is nothing wrong with you. The only thing wrong with you is that you have an overactive imagination that you allow to rule yourself. There is nothing wrong with you. But you’ll keep on acting that there is. And in the end, your brother will also die, because he’ll end up giving his life to see you taken care of.”

She bent over and pinned down the young woman with her eyes. Her lips curled into a sardonic smile, and the red of them captured her listener’s attention.

“You will be the death of us all. Unless...You die first.” A cackle fell over her lips as she faded away again, and the other visions became more prominent again.

“Fia!” A strong, masculine voice rang out, barely registering in the back of her brain. Her head fell forward, and her eyes caught sight of the shattered glass.

She reached forward and gripped the piece in her healthy hand. Holding up her left hand, she moved the piece towards her wrist.

“Fia!”

“You die first.” The haughty voice cackled in her ear again.

“I die first.” She sobbed, and dropped her left hand, but at the same time lifting her right hand up towards her neck. Her head dropped to the left side, sweeping her hair to that side as well. “I die first.” She murmured, bringing down the piece towards her neck. She knew where she had to cut. She lifted her head a little again, her hand hovering next to her target.

“The carotid artery has the very fundamental duty of carrying blood to the brain. When cut or severed, death can be swift.” The voice of her high-school Biology teacher droned, and his image appears in front of her. She remembered him standing with his back to the class, as he scribbled something on the whiteboard. “Death can be swift.” He repeats, and then looks over his shoulders, his eyes pinning her down.

His face started contorting, and her mother’s image appeared in front of her eyes again.

“You will be the death of us all. There is nothing wrong with you. An overactive imagination that you allow to rule yourself.” She repeated, which resulted in Fia closing her eyes.

“Yes, Mother.” She murmured, slicing the piece into her neck.

“Fia, no!!” Fidel yelled as he burst into the room. She twisted her neck to face him, all her visions and demons disappearing as the room came into focus again.

“I’m sorry, Fidel. I have to die.” She forced over her lips, but was interrupted as he fell next to her, pushing his jacket against the wound. He fished out his cell phone and speed-dialed his cousin.

Fia lifted her right hand and placed it on his left arm. She looked at him, all the love that she felt for her brother pouring from her eyes.

“You have to let me go.” She said, smiling sorrowfully.

“Never.” He hissed out. The call went through, and he proceeded to yell, “Fillip, I need you. Now.”

“I’m coming.” Was the quick response, and the call was ended.

“Fidel...” She murmured again.

“No.” He hissed once again, and pinned her down with his gaze. “No, Fia. Never. I need you. You don’t die until it is His will for you to go. It is not your place to decide whether you get to live or die.”

“Fidel...Mother, -”

“Was wrong!” He spat out. “You know that. You can’t let her words of the past guide your future, Fia. She’s dead. Let her words and her hatred be dead for you as well. Stop carrying it with you, or you will never have the opportunity to live; to really live.”

“I can’t.” She cried. “I can’t forget. I try. I’ve tried so many times. And they leave me...For a good few weeks. But, then all of that depression and anxiety hits again, and she reappears. And the demons come, and I’m not strong enough to fight them.”

“It’s an ever-repeating cycle; I can’t escape my own mind.” She blubbered out, crumpling down, as she lost consciousness.

“Fia, if you fall into a coma and don’t make it out this time...” he hissed through clenched teeth, “I will bloody well come down to hell and drag you out of there.”