amen and his nightmare

some characters (all 5 of them) are more pronounced or present in my mind. amen is one of those characters who currently suffers night terrors:

Everytime, unfocused, small desperate little moves he mistook for gestures at the foot of his bed as the pale ghost swirled in a mess of tangled wet hair that clung to her petite shoulders. The nightmare was apparent, real, it was grasping the sheets and hising his name through the fumes of an intoxicating high behind the acidic taste that bleach often left in his mouth. He writhed from it, from that pedicured wraith whose eyes struck terror into his once beating heart. And now, her pressence was all too strong, his nerves quietly strung like a thread through the head of a needle, he was precise, his motives pure. The rugged brushed steel, the smell of the gun oil along the slide, the barrell pointed true. Amen never knew when or how he pulled the gun by it’s handle to the center of her head. He trembled as her lips moved, gently, whispering over and over again the desperate plea to end it all. he believed and he believed and he believed, this entity before him had a purpose. she pleaded again and his heart sank. her fingers caressed his hands and rested his index through and onto the trigger. she pleaded again, her eyes never leaving his..she pleaded once more, that his bullet was firm and true. he pulled the trigger and the click was the cold rush of reality that washed over him. In an instant, he had blinked through the tears, the watery moasaic of an empty room. The moonlight shed across his bed, his mind, conjuring memories and dancing shadows like a marrionette plays their puppets in a show. He could breathe again, although slow, shuddering breathes that escaped him. He turned the barrell against his head , the metal apparent ontop of his short raven hair. *clickclick* it cried. *noescape* *forever and ever* *youwillsuffer* *youkilledher* *amen*

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