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From Bedrock Up

  What happens when you hit rock bottom? A sensible person will have been building ladders, making a staircase, or at least been shoveling dirt and gravel out of the way on their descent. Some people will end up here through their own actions, others will have circumstances thrust upon them and find themselves flailing around desperately trying to get out. Some people find rock bottom by staring at the edge of cliff. They look down into a bottomless pit and ask "why shouldn't I jump?" while they're already halfway down. The best plan for being shoved off a cliff is to have a rope tied around your waist. Barring that, know how to make a rope so you can at least pick yourself up slowly later. Even the most sensible person will make their way upward once they hit rock bottom. Few will do what I chose to do: grab a drill and keep digging. I'm fairly sure I hit solid ground some time ago and just didn't have the capacity to get myself out. I could def...
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Exorcism - One Year Followup

~~~ Royal Archive ~~~ Year 562 March 30 Subject: ███████████ Race: ███████ (Exorcised) Sex: Female Age: Presumed 16 Transcript: I... don't know what to do anymore. I can't be me, there's nothing left. I can't even bring myself to end my life. Believe me, I've tried. Burning, stabbing, drowning, hanging, crushing, nothing sticks. Oh it hurts, it hurts so so so much... but my body just rearranges itself after anything happens. I even tried cutting off my left arm and throwing it into a nearby lake. Somehow when I woke up the next morning the arm was back. It smelled like fish, mud, and filth for the next month no matter how much I washed myself. <The priest looks aghast at the description> I tried cutting off my head after that. Do you know what happened? <The priest shakes his head> I got to watch all of the blood drain out of my body and the entire thing flop around upside down. It wasn't really painful, just uncomfortable and irritating. The entire ...
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An Experience Worth Remembering

  An Experience Worth Remembering Calm. Collected. Out of control. These were the feelings that he had when he opened the jar of peanut butter and scraped out the sides. It was always done in a peculiar way based on a comic that he had read some time ago: scoop out one half, then dig out the underside of the remaining half and leave the very top of the peanut butter intact until the last possible moment. “If you can control the peanut butter, you can control your life”, he muttered. The peanut butters’ half-top remained intact. It was the only thing that seemed to be going right in his life. He could certainly sit down and spread peanut butter on toast, then grab the honey bear and swish a light drizzle over the whole slice. He could sit down at a table and bite into the delicious blend of warm toast and butter, with just the right amount of crunch, and eat it slowly until nothing was left. To him, it was all that he could do at the time. Crumbs of toast and drips of n...
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