Everything’s normal; everything’s fine.

Breathe.

She can’t. She can’t breathe. Her hands are shaking and she can’t see clearly, and she feels like she might throw up.

Why doesn’t anything focus? Nothing focuses for her. Not even her thoughts.

And she’s on nothing but the idiocy of life.

Since she can’t breathe anyways, she lets her own fingers clutch her throat. It just feels right that way. She pushes down. Her lips go numb; the pressure builds behind her eyes.

Then she pushes too far, and chokes and coughs.

There is something wrong with this picture, in the mirror. That’s not her. She doesn’t know what she is or who she is, and she doesn’t know anything anymore.

Her soul is just loosely, barely tethered to her…vaguely drifting, it floats unaware, and she is catatonic behind those flat grey eyes. She’s mercilessly caught in limbo.

She can still feel her phantom fingers against her throat, though they’re lying on the counter in front of her.

People are dying all around her. It scares her, but she wants to die too…

She’s choking, because she can’t breathe again.

Breathe.

Everything’s normal; everything’s fine.

Soundtrack: "Idioteque" - Radiohead

A/N: I've been feeling exactly like this for about a week now, lately. It's getting worse...gagging... My eyes, though, are brown...