Wip

I woke up gasping feeling as if there had been someone sitting on my chest, compressing my lungs, forcing me to suck in shallow, insufficient sips of air while my sleep addled eyes stared blankly at my mirrored aspect across the room. Finally my sight returned after I blinked many times and I watched as sweat dripped off my face onto the warm, twisted sheets. The urge hadn't hit me this hard, this fast in a long while and it left me breathless with a sick, desperate need. In the sharp winter light that spilled weakly through my windows behind the head board I could see the sucking shadows of my need lurking just beyond my peripheral vision. Before I could get a hold on the reality of the morning, a shrill beeping announced that it was time to start the day. I closed my eyes tight against the audial evasion and concentrated on my breathing. In, out, in and slowly out, bring it in slow with a count of ten and then let it trickle out on the same count. The meditative breaths did nothing to lessen the gut deep drive that tried to claw it's way manically into the fore front of my mind. With a frustrated grunt, I grabbed the alarm clock radio off the night stand and threw it with all my might only to watch it fall in a neat arc onto the faded hand braided rug from when I was twelve and still going to church camp. Still plugged in, great. I rubbed my hands over my face, my eyes feeling gritty and my mouth full of cotton. And the alarm was still going off. After I stood up, I yanked the cord out of the wall and left it coiled like a snake. It took me an hour longer to shower and get the rest of my gear together to head out to work. Through out my morning ritual I was stuck with flashes of fantastic images that should have unsettled my stomach but left me sick of desire instead. 1

Hour later, the compulsion was still distracting me. My hands shook at work, forcing me to take the time to fix common mistakes that I wasn't used to taking. The fact that these mistakes were minor was even more frustrating as they had a cruel taunting quality that made me feel bullied and defenseless. Blowing out a harsh breath, I tried to clear my mind so that I could focus more easily on the tasks on hand. I shook out my hands, ignoring the small trembling they did, and closed my eyes so that the blinking cursor on the automated form in front of me didn't seem so mocking. In and out came blessed air, tinged slightly with the cleaning chemicals used by the night crew and spiced with the scented candle that an office mate had on one of those hot plates used so that there is no open flame. In on the count of ten, hold for three heart beats and then slowly out again one, two, three, four, five, six-2

"Anyone home?"3

I could feel the pained smile slicing my face before I turned around. Interruptions are the antithesis of trying to maintain a frustration free feeling, but are also inevitable in our busy office. "How can I help?"4

There must have been something in my tone, or in my eyes that caused him to hesitate but he found his voice shortly. "The meeting was called and bossman was just wondering where you were."5

I glanced behind me to see the time residing in it's normal spot down and to the right of my desktop. Late. Gritting my teeth, I focused on the young man and nodded. "Tell him I will be right there, I just need to finish this up." Without another thought, I turned back to my files and forms, feeling frozen inside. I was never late. The craving was now more than a distraction, it was spreading it's malevonce into my very core and causing me to be less than I really was. Something would have to be done. And soon, before everything I had worked for came crashing down, forcing the house of cards I had been residing in to cave in on me. I closed down the work I was trying to perform and went to the meeting, a cold, coiling shivery feeling behind my heart and sitting in the corners of my eyes. 6

The feeling was worse than lust, then starvation, than primal need- it was a command that I couldn't ignore. After the pointless hours of the meeting, my boss pulled me aside and inquired about my health. Was ill, was it the flu, should I maybe think about going home? Seeing an opportunity to leave but ashamed of the fear that roiled through at the thought of having no distractions made me pause, but the look in his eyes made me realize that it was more of a request on their behalf instead of my own. I smiled tightly and expressed my gratitude at his concern, the need inside of me giggling like a zombie child as relief flashed over his face. I gathered my things, said few goodbyes and headed out to the world where the only real danger was me. There was no longer a way to avoid the inevitable.7

I was going to kill someone tonight