A Million Little Pieces - James Frey [126]
I walk to the door. Before I leave, I turn and I look at my Mother and my Father. My Mother is crying, my Father staring at the floor. Joanne is down on one knee and she is whispering kind words to them, words that I do not deserve to hear.
I open the door and I walk out. I make my way back to the Unit. Night has fallen and the Halls are dark. Overhead lights illuminate them. I hate the lights I want them gone. I wish the Halls were darker. I am craving the dark the darkest darkness the deep and horrible hole. I wish the Halls were fucking black. My mind is black my heart is black I wish the Halls were black. If I could, I would destroy the lights above me with a fucking bat. I would smash them to fucking pieces. I wish the Halls were black.
I open the door to my Room. I walk and I sit down on my bed. Miles is not here and I am alone. My mind is black and my heart is black and I am alone.
I take off my shoes and I take off my socks. I pull my foot my right foot onto the thigh of my left leg. I look down at my toes. They are dirty and gnarled and foul with sweat. I am alone and the Fury is within me. It is not raging, nor near its height, but it is there. It flows through my veins like a slow, lazy virus, urging me to do damage, but not enough damage to constitute destruction. I want it to go away. I want it to leave me. When it is at its full, I am often at its mercy, but not now. I know what to do to make it go away, I know how to make it disappear. Feed it pain and it will leave me. Feed it pain and it will go away.
With the thumb and forefinger of my right hand, I start pulling at the nail of the second toe of my left foot. I know it’s sick, a sick fucking symptom of an infected mind, but I do it anyway. I pull. I pull at the nail.
It is always this toe, always this nail. As it has grown back from my last bout with it, it has grown in a way that makes it easy to do it again. It sticks up a little higher than the rest of my nails, its shape is more ragged. It has edges that I can get beneath, edges that provide leverage. I pull. I pull at the nail.
It starts to break away at its tip. It starts to hurt. The Fury inside of me howls with delight. Give me more. Give me more.
I pull and the nail breaks further. It tears the skin that holds it in place, severs the veins that feed it. Blood starts to flow. The pain starts moving. Like the blood, the pain is red. It moves down my toe and into my foot, it dances around my ankle. I can feel the Fury feeding on it. Give me more. Give me more.
I look down. My fingers and my foot are covered in blood. I can see the nail through the red, see it hanging by its base. I know the Fury sees it because I can feel it. It feels like a starving demon. Feed me. Feed me. Feed me that goddamn nail. Feed me, you Motherfucker, or I will ruin you. Feed me that goddamn nail.
I put my finger above the nail and my thumb between it and the exposed pink flesh of my toe. My thumb brushes the flesh and the pain turns from red to white and it shoots up my leg and into my stomach. It is instantly devoured and there is an instant call for more. Feed me, you Motherfucker, or I will ruin you. Feed me that goddamn nail.
I pull. I pull at the nail. One half of it rips from its base. I close my eyes my hand is covered in blood I clench my jaw and I cry out softly I cry. The pain is overwhelming and I am full of it. From the tips of my hair all the way down and through everything everywhere the pain is everywhere. The Fury is gobbling it up. The Demon is drinking. One more tear and it will be full.
I pull. I pull at the nail. It tears free and I cry out my cry is not so soft this time. Pain is everywhere, white and flaming and cold as Hell. Every cell in my body is twitching and electric, full of hate and thankful with relief. The Fury rises briefly rises with a smile and screams bloody murder thank you. It eats the pain. It drinks it. It takes it every way it can. It makes it go away go away now. I have given you what you wanted, go away now.
I let out a deep breath. A