We're Drowning{Or Is It Just Me?} (open)
Jan 17, 2011 11:27:53 GMT -5
Post by Morgana on Jan 17, 2011 11:27:53 GMT -5
Sylvania Legend
When I wake up in the morning, I blink a few times, trying to clear the fuzziness from my head. It doesn't work. It never works. I'm always stuck in this haze, never quite sure what's going on. I walk down the stairs to the kitchen where my mother is cooking something that smells very good.
"Good morning honey. How did you sleep?" She asks. Huh? I know she just said something, but...I can't remember what she said even though it was only a few seconds ago. Something about...sleep. Yeah.
"Uh...Good."
She gives me a concerned look. I've been getting that look for a year now, ever since my suicide attempt. Damn morphling. But God, I love it. Morphling...It's been a long time. I know my parents don't think I want morphling anymore, but every time I pass by the locked medicine cabinet where they keep it, I have to resist the urge to try ripping it open. Why can't they trust me? Why can't they just unlock the stupid thing so I can sneak my morphling and be happy?
Oh. I think my mother just said something to me, but I didn't catch it. I don't feel like asking her to repeat the question.
"Food."
Mother gives me a little smile, then hands me a plate filled with eggs and bacon. I head to the table with it.
Why am I standing in the middle of the kitchen with a plate full of food? I don't remember. God, why can't I ever remember? I let the plate drop to the floor. It shatters, and I hear my mother gasp. I make a frustrated noise.
Mother has already started cleaning up the mess, but I just stand there, tears streaming down my face. I hate this. I hate the morphling for eating my mind. I wish I could just run and run until I leave who I am behind. I wish I could start over, wish things could make sense again. But nothing will ever make sense again.
I leave from the front door, ignore my mother calling after me. I have to get out, out of my head. But that's impossible. I know that. I know it's impossible to ever go back to where I used to be, to who I used to be before Arissa died. So I just keep running. Down the streets, into alleyways, twisting, turning, until I'm more lost than I could ever know. I don't care if I never find my way back home. I don't care if I just shrivel up and die right here, wherever that is. I crouch down, pulling my self into a ball, and cry.