I'm laughing.

Sitting here, listening to the familiar click of the keyboard, trying to supress my deafening anxiety that is bubbling inside of me, intense movements that threaten to break through the skin. I pop another Valium and hope that it will overpower the evil within. My thoughts are on the girl, they have been all night; taunting voices whispering to me, too quiet so I have to strain to hear them, overlapping statements, causing me mass confusion and misperception. I pull at my hair and scratch my scalp, pleading for the spiders to stop crawling. My body tingles and jolts erratically, sickness building up in my stomach, any way to get it out. My sight blurs and the world around me melts waxy doors and windows, the patterns on this screen dripping to an ugly puddle of fucked up words. I resent the fact that she can cause me this much agony, that my brain aches and sounds like ancient trees bending and breaking in a heavy wind. The two of them with haunting faces grinning manically at me, oversized dark eyes and blood red lips, teeth baring, menacing, threatening. I huddle in the corner of the room protecting my face as talons swoop over me, wings battering down and obscuring my vision. My eyes clasp shut, I tell myself over and over that this is just a dream, it is not real, this is just a dream, it is not real, this is just a dream it is not real. But when I open my eyes, I see them on the bed that has suddenly appeared. Standing slowly I walk over and reluctantly watch as he penetrates her, her legs wrapped around his lower torso, head flung back in pleasure, sweat falls onto the covers and darkens the material as it spreads, turning black. Her moans unexpectedly turn to shrieks and she claws at his eyes, trying to push him off her, but he doesn’t sympathise with her cries and carries on pounding her, harder. Her body thrashers underneath his, her screams are high pitched and I cover my ears as the sound waves crash into my face, scratching and bruising my features. A murky substance is seeping out onto the sheets from the area where they are sexually connected. Her calls are muffled now and are more like desperate whimpers. He stops any movement and pulls himself free, a look of horror overtakes his pleasure and his face turns deathly white. Her vagina is battered and bloodied, a thick tar like substance oozes and protrudes from in-between her thighs. His cock is rotting, coming apart in his shaking hands, disintegrating as he throws up over and over. My torture has now transformed into entertainment and I step back and lean against the wall, arms folded and watch the scenes unfold in front of me. He is on the floor picking up the sticky remains of his dick; she is trying to rid her cunt of the never ending force that empties out on the bed. Both are desperate, both are in pain, both are screaming, both are crying, both look pathetic and pitiful.

I’m laughing.