At first, you feel the rush. It pulses through your veins, your muscles tighten and you find yourself spinning. It is the best feeling anything can feel. It is better than happiness, better than any comedy, better than your favourite comedian or the thrill of the scariest rollercoaster. You feel yourself rise, and the fear fills the pit of your stomach as you begin your descent.
You crash.
You crash deeper than you have ever crashed before.
Everything you feel is lost and you cannot stop hating yourself for it.
I see him in my dreams and I am scared. I am scared for my life, scared for the life of my friends. I hate it. I want him to leave me alone, but I feel him pressing against me, his body crushing mine, our skin touching. I hate it, I want to scream but his hand covers mine. I bite into his skin and he flinches in pain, only to hit me across the face. The rollercoaster comes crashing off the tracks and I find myself dying in a pool of my own blood and tears.
It may be a rush at first, the greatest feeling in the world, and then you wake up from the dream you cannot escape, and discover it is reality. A reality you long not to live in. For if you do, then you must live with your demons. You must live with his face. You must live with his sins.
You crash.
Crash hard.

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