banging the back of her head against the wall but otherwise doing nothing to draw attention. the knife in her hand is sharp and she drags the blade across the floor making shapes and symbols that have no meaning. Or perhaps only no meaning to the sane.
she keeps hearing a "splat" sound behind her, then realises she only hears it when her head makes contact with the wall. Something warm and wet and thick is dripping down on her back.
The gnomes are dancing about the floor around her singing, "Cherish the darkness, and let us sort out the mess." Tho they never do and the mess just keeps getting bigger and bigger with each wet thud her head makes against the wall.
Little creatures that resemble flys buzz around her head landing on her ears every so often whispering horrible things to her. Dark and horrible things.
She gets up and walks over to the computer to see whats going on in the world. The red smears on the keyboard are invisible to her even tho they make her fingers slip and type the wrong letters. She wants to talk about fish but the K becomes a H followed by an E then a L and lastly a P.
The entire world is a bright screen in front of her surrounded by darkness smeared in red.
The wallgnomes won't stop singing.
"Cherish the darkness, and let us sort out the mess."
But they never do.
she wants to get inside the world but every time she tries her head hits the screen and leaves behind more invisible red marks that casts a pink hue on her face. She looks in the mirror and thinks, "one more pink thing for the wall." But the staple gun is downstairs so it'll have to wait for the morrow.
the fly creatures are crawling all over her hands now, making them itch but she can't scratch because the fly things are throwing up, then sucking the vomit back into their mouths and they look so peaceful and happy that she doesn't want to disturb them.
more wallgnomes have come out now. They're still singing and some are sitting in her lap while others are playing in the matted wet stickiness of her hair getting more and more tangled in it by the second. they start to pull and she wants to scream but that would make them leave and she would be alone.
she can't be alone right now.
the dog across the street keeps barking and although she knows how wrong it is to poson your neighbor's dog she's sorely tempted.
it caused a big problem last time.
the knife she left in the corner has come to sit in her lap next to the wallknomes and it's started talking to her. it never use to talk to her but its lonely now, too, and wants to go outside to play. perhaps with the neighbor's dog.
she looks at the Barbie dolls her mother bought her when she was little. they're on the wall next to the rotting pink things. she devised very imaginative ways to make sure they stayed on the wall.
One Barbie has a nail thru her chest. another she burned and melted just enough so it would stick. another is stapled to a cross and it looks like that savior everybody talks about so much. another is hung with a tight wire around her neck and yet another she banged so hard against the wall that now it's just legs sticking out of a hole. and what she did to Ken is too horrible to discribe in a public forum.
she has 19 more Barbies that sit in the bottom of her closet awaiting their fate. she knows one day they will come to life and seek revenge.
she's leaving now. going back to the corner to see if that sound is still behind her. hopefully the knife will follow and the wallgnomes will keep singing.
"tra la la lalala. cherise the darkness, and let us sort out the mess."
but the damn things never do.