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Let me get inside your head Let me show you I'm prepared Let me stick my needles in And let me hurt you again . . .

@ferociium | MAKING MISERIES: MAIN

Darkness festered in the pit of Dwight's soul. Not a dangerous one, but an all consuming one. One of the many effects an eternity in the Fog could grant even the most enduring of survivors. In this moment, he was reminded of his mother. Of how his birth gave way to an intense depression that hid her true identity from him most of his life. As a child, he couldn't imagine the depths of what she battled every day. And in a way, he never would know for certain. But Dwight had to wonder if it ever felt anything like where he found himself now. A dark place full of self doubt and scrutiny that made his mind ache and swell with a sense of dread and hopelessness.

A deep, solemn stare glistened with the threat of tears, eyes sunken and dark; heavy and burdensome. The words were simple yet poignant upon ears that didn't quite know how to process them. His chest just felt so heavy . . . as if he were leagues beneath the sea and experiencing all of the pressure associated with it. As if manifesting two words was an arduous task, Dwight swallowed thickly and attempted to channel his broken voice as he stared hazel hues down to the core.