it does not have to come as pain

It does not have to come as pain. It does not come as pain. It did not come as pain. The storm raged inside her head. She felt lightless, dizzy. Her stomach was confused. Heavy and full and light and empty. All four of those things swirling around in a nauseating mess. She could smell her future vomit in her mouth, she tasted ash, and she tasted everything. She was not eating anything. She rubbed her fingers together, and it felt as if she was feeling them for the first time in all of her twenty four years.

The air around her head seemed to be buttressing it from all sides, canons at the gates. She heard the call to prayer in the wee hours of the day, it cut through the silence, sharp as a knife, and just as painful. It did not come as pain. Pain is not simple. Pain is complex. Pain is vague. It did not come as pain.

She rubbed her eyes, her vision blurred, and she blinked a few times to clear it out. They felt driven to the point of exhaustion. Tired, plain, and simple. A few long gasps, trying to suck in the peace from the air. But it seemed the air was against her, giving her less and less oxygen to breathe on. Making her more and more lightheaded, dizzy.

The calls to prayer became louder, more urgent. She tried to focus on the noise, closed her eyes, listening to the praises of the lord, as well as the calling all believers to prostrate before him. She could imagine the few who were awake listening silently, the fewer still among them walking the silent, lonely roads towards the closest places of worship to them. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the noise, trying to drown out the deluge within her. It did not work. A heavy sigh, she opened them again. Her stomach.

Full and empty, swirling around, a mess of vomit and acid. She shook her head vigorously, trying to get her monsters out of her head. It was all mental. It was not mental. She was feeling it. Full and empty, swirling around, a mess of vomit and acid. She shook her head vigorously, trying to get her monsters out.

It did not work. She sighed. Drawing in air from the air that was not compliant. That seemed to be against her with every breath. Pushing back. Not giving in. She wriggled her toes. At least they did that. They did not hurt. They were not confused. It was something. If not much. Her feet were cold. She navigated the blanket farther down, pulling at it with her feet, covering them even more. She wrapped her arms around her chest, turned to one side, curled up in a ball. She winced. She hugged herself tighter. Her stomach. She opened her mouth to let out a silent harsh scream. It felt good.

It does not have to come as pain. It does not come as pain. It