by Pinky and The Brain
Disclaimer: "The X-Files" is property of Chis Carter and
Category: MT, MA, Mulder POV
Summary: Hanging onto sanity by a thread...
The restraints have continued to slice into my skin from
previous efforts at escape... or effecting relief. A
reflex not entirely of my conscious mind, but born of
claustrophobic desperation. Numbness at the tips of my
fingers burn in their intensity. I hope this sensation
will disperse to other regions where open wounds are
festering. But what does it matter now? I slipped the
surly bonds of earth like all those childhood imaginings,
but just look at me. Trapped like a fly in amber in an
After endless hours that I can no longer count, I have
found a retreat.
Into the far recesses of my mind where they cannot
penetrate, I am free. A leaden chamber locked in my mind
that secludes the last vestige of coherent awareness as I
lie here and await the next atrocity. Their incessant
probing may invade my physical being, but have not
permeated through the desperate walls of my mind.
They cannot pursue me there. A mad laugh that could be
my own cannons around my skull, mocking them from my safe
No matter what physical torment I endure, they have yet
to discover my secret illicit refuge. On my most desolate intervals I withdraw into
this niche where no pain is permitted.
It is where my memories exist.
They keep me sane in all the madness and delirium.
Through despair and agony, I have this. I hang onto this
with all ten talons of the desperate beast that is left
of my sanity. Out of the abyss, these are beacons to lead
me far from the suffering. One memory is so prominent
from rest of them all.
I memorize the contours of her face, the way her brows
arch or crease out of skepticism or concern. The way her lips slowly curl into
a full-blown smile, very rare and just for me. I burn her
memory into my retinas, simultaneously with my heart.
Loud and heavy all through me like a metronome sinking in
molasses. My heart beat draws out the sound of her name
like a litany, a much needed mantra.
I can lose all mortality in this thought, slide into a
realm of euphoria.
With my memories I am not alone. I still feel connected,
united with her.
I can sense her near and yet unable to grasp, to convey
Until then I remain like an elemental, fetal in my
retreat. Alive only for her memory.
Not so alone.
Denying the suffering.
Within my retreat.