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Jackie's on crack
Jul. 24th, 2002 12:31 amThis is like, one of the 86 beginnings I've written for my story. I want to start writing, though, and get rid of all this crap. So maybe I'll keep working from it. Anywho, it's 1st person, from Timria's point of view. She lives with just her father, who's a business man and she doesn't have any friends. Lonely little girl. She's 15.
The darkness is back again today. I faintly feel like I might throw up. Like down my throat it feels like that. My mouth tastes like blood. My wrists hurt when I feel like this. Like they’ve had nails driven through them, even though I’ve borne no cross. Everything I look at brings death....I look at the door and I imagine someone busting it open and opening fire with a gun. The computer...it blows up and shards from the monitor embed themselves all over my face, in my chest, in my arms. The pen ejects burning liquid right into my eyes and I convulse and die. I feel like I’ll never be clean again, like I’ll never care again. There’s nobody to go to. Nobody anywhere. Never has been. I don’t know what to do any more. I never know what to do when this happens, but it’s not that I don’t like it. I almost enjoy it more when the dark comes back. I know I’m alive, still. Because sometimes it’s very easy to forget that. That you’re alive, I mean. You do the same crap every day and it’s not like you ever wake up one day and it just starts meaning something – it never does. I’m tired, I’m uncomfortable, I have to go to the bathroom, but it’s like someone else is feeling all that. I feel like I’m on the brink of something huge but I don’t know what it is or what it could be. All I know is this darkness. I can feel it everywhere. It surrounds me and I drink it in because there is nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. Sometimes you just surrender yourself to the night and then even if you don’t feel better in the morning, you feel like you’ve accomplished something.
Yeah, I scare myself sometimes.
The darkness is back again today. I faintly feel like I might throw up. Like down my throat it feels like that. My mouth tastes like blood. My wrists hurt when I feel like this. Like they’ve had nails driven through them, even though I’ve borne no cross. Everything I look at brings death....I look at the door and I imagine someone busting it open and opening fire with a gun. The computer...it blows up and shards from the monitor embed themselves all over my face, in my chest, in my arms. The pen ejects burning liquid right into my eyes and I convulse and die. I feel like I’ll never be clean again, like I’ll never care again. There’s nobody to go to. Nobody anywhere. Never has been. I don’t know what to do any more. I never know what to do when this happens, but it’s not that I don’t like it. I almost enjoy it more when the dark comes back. I know I’m alive, still. Because sometimes it’s very easy to forget that. That you’re alive, I mean. You do the same crap every day and it’s not like you ever wake up one day and it just starts meaning something – it never does. I’m tired, I’m uncomfortable, I have to go to the bathroom, but it’s like someone else is feeling all that. I feel like I’m on the brink of something huge but I don’t know what it is or what it could be. All I know is this darkness. I can feel it everywhere. It surrounds me and I drink it in because there is nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. Sometimes you just surrender yourself to the night and then even if you don’t feel better in the morning, you feel like you’ve accomplished something.
Yeah, I scare myself sometimes.
