Fray and fray, past and past, stride by stride. Smile leering. Eyes prying. End nearing. No words could describe the jumble that consumed what used to be me. No words could describe the lack of emotion that had been forced into me, twisted, burned, shaped. The monster created a monster. And the monsters would destroy each other. The most important things seemed now petty. Where, what, whom, how, when? All were irrelevant terms mashed into the leftovers of Sunday Night’s dinner.

My brain was the meatloaf of that dinner. Shoved into the fridge to be forgotten and left to become a biologically active site. Mold slowly creeping over and coating what used to be rich, tasteful and whole. My entire existence was that meatloaf.

When I first got here the only thing I fussed about were the chains. Digging into my wrists and peeling away at my pasty skin, all trickling down. Now the chains that wrapped around my meatloaf were the only things concerning me. I wonder how he got them in there. I imagine him with a scalpel removing the top of my head like a cookie jar lid. Snapping the manacles onto my squishy pink meatloaf.

Maybe he did it while I was sleeping. Or was I sleeping when he did that? Did he appear when I was asleep or awake? Day dream, night dream, waking dream, sleeping dream? Reality seemed to mix into the concoction of the terms. My meatloaf was being made into soup to be served to the fourth graders. Easy, cheap recycling. Screw the goddamn health regulations. Hair nets on, mystery meat out. Dishing one by one. A dollar a go. Hey kid, want any?

Rattle, rattle went the snakes around my wrists and squishy pink. Rattle, rattle. And he was still there, jabbing at me with those visual organs. I wince as he stabs me with them again.

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I went into a random spree with writing this and now I can't think of anything else. Fuck it. This is surreal though. Strange.