The Others

It all started with a rapping at my bedroom window... three stories above the earth, with no place which to step. Starting slowly at first, they entered with such grace as they stepped, danced, and swam about the room. The light hum of indistinct conversation... separated and without purpose. What wonderful company, delightful really... filling the emptiness, the void. I'll never feel alone again... reaching, crawling, scratching. Echos screeching from hollow mouths... mixing into a mass in each throat. They are clear now, every word, every noise, every heartbeat ripping at my mind and stabbing at my throat... the blood pounds deep within, echoing in my own head. Now each with their own purpose and ideas they chatter... this, that and the other one. My voice is lost among the din and my will is null as I become the moppet... each voice with it's own desire and the collective with one agenda. One stands alone, more selfish than the last... the cat, for he is the Master and I am now the mouse. My breath smells of bleach and I have bitten the nubs of my fingertips raw, but the bottle is still closed and out of reach. Drink it. Drink it... these words thrash me relentlessly. Treats for my dearest Sweet... many more treats they promise.