A/N; I know, it's bad. But bare with me? I was pissed off when I started it, and slowly I became less angry. So, the end I guess, is forgiveness? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, though it doesn't entirely make sense.

My breath quickened its pace as my heart pounded against the fragile ribs. The agony was excruciating. Please, stop the pain, please. Nothing worked, not begging, not pleading, not sobbing. Suicide was a quick solution, if there was a way left for me to die. I'm praying to a god, and all I hear are laughs echoing from the next room, through the crevasses of my brain. Gravity became the enemy a short while ago; I already feel the devastating effects. Bound to this room, the only place gravity won't disturb me. Earth is not a force to be reckoned with.

I felt on fire, all the time, being abused by the sun. My malicious master. Even at night the sun reflected torment from the moonlight, the moon was a faithful servant to the bully sun. As I was expected to be. The wind lashed at me, like whips, the stinging unforgettable. Marked by scars, I can hardly breathe as I'm beaten into the suffocating mud. I'm never good enough. I think there used to be tears, now it's only a collection of dry sobs. I can't heal with the Earth glaring down upon my being. Gods of heaven, what did I do to cause such great anger? Didn't I believe strong enough, didn't I pray long enough? Stop testing me, I beg, I believe, I believe.

They say it's not anger, tough love perhaps, but never anger. They want me, but I must deserve them. Such a loyal follower, I wince, perhaps I believed too strongly.

The laughter is growing louder in my mind, my hands shake with the rapid succession of sound. It's such a mocking laughter, like they know my pain, and they take pride. Another book smashes the wall, thudding softly to the pile below. That disgusting laughter never stops, never pauses to wonder what the noise was. I could be dead, I scream, drowned out. Not that you care, I whisper, never audible to the laughter. Would you want me dead? I thought I saw you nod there. I'll do anything to end this.

And so, I give in, in to the sun's very will. What it commands, what the gods demand, I've sacrificed for them. Waiting for the day. The sun says I'm an artist; I have talent beyond my human comprehension. I could draw the gods, and they would be proud. It's helping me; it assures me this will all be worth it. I cry silently, nothing is worth it. But if the gods will love me again- I hear the sound of no one coming, so I breathe in the dust, endure the laughter, and die. It's the only choice. Please love me again, I've worked so hard.

The sun's coming up again, another sleepless night, lost in insanity. My skin itches, as it knows what's to come. More torment, more laughter. It only ever gets louder. At least let me sleep, I cry. I flinch as the sun through the blinds cast mystical shadows across the floor; I glare at them, gripping the knife so obediently. Trace me, they whisper. I stare, is this what they call art? To hold such notions in your mind, the suffering is inevitable. The notion of freedom I held stronger. I kneel down, dragging the knife across the wooden floor, already so many impressions.

Crazy they say, I shake my head, I can't be crazy! It doesn't work, it isn't logical. The knife stabs into the wood, my hands pulling on it violently. Crazy, no, a slave to the Earth is all. Chasing the shadows around the room, carving into other designs, melding them into a collage. My hands burn where the sun touches them, reminding me, don't go out of the lines. The Earth has chosen me, the gods above, have chosen me. My delusions fall stronger and stronger, I'm racing around the room, catching the images before they fade. I'm tested, because I belong. I hurt because I must. The images cloud my mind, freedom slipping away.

The sun is my master, as its indulgent apprentice I must do what it wills. I'm never good enough. The window slams open, it's angry, I'm not quick enough. Please, another chance, I ask of it. Another chance I'm never given. A thrash and the blood fills the grooves. My eyes widen, as I stand and watch, the floor is falling in. Darkness clouds the room, the sun standing brightly beside me. I shudder, eyes falling vacant again. Good, the sun mumbles, my memories are fading to black. Being replaced with obedience, and a manual of sorts. I feel nearly heavenly. Does it mean I'm good enough? Sadistic joy encases me. I turn to the sun, holding my hand to it, no longer burned. Chosen. I smile. Is the test, finally, over?

Return to me, salvation.