the light switch stays off
the darkness is murky, indistinct, thick. it wraps itself around your body like a heavy, invisible serpent, threatening to squeeze you dry of any last remaining drop of goodness and happiness that you have left within your emaciated veins. and you stare off into the distance, into the other room that is just as dark as the one you are huddling in, glassy-eyed. staring at something far off, unfocused and indistinct. there are shapes lurking around you, around this empty and silent house that stands atop a hill of all of your accumulated regret. the shapes seem to sneer, their faces a pale grey of fuzzy features that seem to crackle and shift along to the faint ticking coming from a clock that hides within the blackness. like grey television static that is always changing, yet seemingly staying the same. trapped in this room, in the exact same fetal position, frozen in space and time, encased within black ice that eats away at your mind bite by bite every passing, waking moment. the serpent winds it way through into your mouth, its cold scales slithering across your heart. you cannot even bring yourself to shudder. all you can do is wait. wait for someone to barge through the door, to claw through the choking ocean of obsidian and yank you out of this emptiness.
but you dont think you can hold out for much longer. //