Done. Undone.

I am not claustrophobic. Neither am I achluophobic. There are no walls holding me prisoner. And I can't find a corner dark enough to hide my face. But the suffocation is inescapable. The house is empty; but there are too many people around. It is pitch black outside. Not a soul in sight. Everybody is asleep. The vagrant dogs have found shelter and lost their way in the land of dreams, too. But the noise is deafening. I look at my reflection; barely so, however. It's been days since I have looked myself in the eyes. Guilt sits heavy and stout, grins at me with its toothless jaws; it settles and nestles upon my heart like it were a bean bag. I wonder what makes her smile. Nay! I beg of her to tell me what humour could possibly relieve me. She smacks me across the face and sends me spiralling down this abyss from where I know not how to return. I hit rock bottom. I can't breathe. It is wet... it's wet and cold. And there's a lapping sound. I think I'm in a lake? I now know what she found funny. There's a loud thudding. It's getting louder... Ah! It's too loud. I don't know if I can take it anymore. I can't see a thing. Why is the air around me compressing and decompressing??? The pressure is making my ears hurt. My vision is a blur of black. Everywhere, all I see is black. Except the eyes. The pairs of yellow eyes. Guilt brought family along today, it would seem. A fingernail runs along my bare spine. It cut me. I know it. A warm liquid is trickling down my back as sorrow, hard and frigid, sets into my gut. Another claw tries to snatch me away, and another, and another. Each doing a fair share of damage. I can not fathom for the life of me what they want... my chest is heavy. Too many voices, too many noises. The thudding is getting closer. The lapping is no longer there. The water is crashing along the shore. Wait! Not water. It's too viscous and sticky. There's a light somewhere underneath the liquid I'm standing in. It's getting brighter. There is no land I feel. The light gets brighter. The eyes are too close for comfort. They are calling out to me. Accusing voices and blaming fingers, hurled at me like daggers. I'm scared. No! No more! Stop!!!! I mean it. I dint do anything. I dint know. I can't fix it. Please! The light is getting brighter. I try to scream, I'm standing in blood. No voice escapes my throat. I have no throat. I have no body. What's happening? I am here; but I am not here. Somebody help me! The light is now blinding. The voices are now scared. I can hear them scrambling. The noises are waning. I can't contain the light. It's not a light. It's not light. It's fire. It's burning everything down. I look around. Nowhere to run. I see it coming. It hurts. And then it doesn't hurt. My heart is warm. I look up and catch somebody looking at me. She's smiling at me. I reach for the mirror, looking closely at my fingertips. They make contact with the surface and I look up again. She's still smiling at me. I'm smiling at me. I lay down in the bed. I fall asleep, still smiling at me.