Help Me. Please Help Me.

Help me. Please help me.

The words echo in my head. I can’t escape them.

Help me.

I can’t.

Please help me.

It’s too late.

Help me. Please help me.

I curl my fingers into my scalp, fisting my hair in my hands. I can’t get it out of my head.

I can hear them crying. I can hear them pleading. I can feel their pain. I can feel their fear. But I can do nothing.

Help me.

It’s already done.

Please help me.

I’m so sorry.

Help me. Please help me.

I reach out to them. I try to soothe them, but they’re wild cards, and they can’t be tamed. Their feelings wash over me and tear me apart from the inside, but there’s nothing I can do.

I clench my eyes shut and press my palms into my chest.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so, so sorry.”

But they can’t hear me, and the words aren’t really for them.

They’re for me.

Help me. Please help me.

The voices in my head are mine. Their tears drip down my cheeks. Their pain burrows deep in my chest.

I am the one crying. I am the one screaming, the one pleading, the one breaking.

But I am split into a hundred pieces.

And I can feel them all trying to dig their way out of me.

I exhale through trembling lips.

Help me. Please help me.

I’m trying.