and then there was two. [kay]
Aug 12, 2011 1:17:35 GMT -5
Post by Arrow on Aug 12, 2011 1:17:35 GMT -5
And when it rains, this side of town it touches
ROSALETTE THURMON
Just say it again and mean it, we don't miss a thing
You made yourself a bed at the bottom of the blackest hole
ROSALETTE THURMON
Just say it again and mean it, we don't miss a thing
You made yourself a bed at the bottom of the blackest hole
And then there was one. Once again, I found myself unwilling jutted into lonliness once more. I had failed to grasp with my bony, lack-of-a-tan fingers that little bit of a friendship that had budded out of nothing in the hospital. When I was hungover into no sense of time, space, or common sense, and the boy with the sexy dreadlocks and the concussion. Jayden, oh how I craved to see him again. That cocky flash in his neatly colored irises. His long, dark dreadlocks, which seemed to draw desperate women into him. His lips, his tanned skin, his large, rough palms. I could just faintly snag the shard of a memory from that day floating in the sea of foggy hangovers. How warm his hands were, yet how rough they were when he wrapped his arms rapidly around me to halt my drunken plummet to the floor. My head had been inches away from impact when he caught me. His eyes, I could feel his eyes grazing over my face. My high, well defined cheekbones, my flushed cheeks, all of it. Then, his eyes danced up their way to my eyes, where they paused, and I held the stare, pleading silently for him to just hold me that way. So we could be suspended there as time froze to glaciers around us. Then, he helped me regain foot on the hideous hospital tiles. My moment of surreal had been cut to a bittersweet end.
Then, that girl with the cat scratch face showed up. Her long, wavy dark hair. Her face, her eyes so blue. She had a perfect face that I knew any guy would melt to be at her mercy. But, long whiplash scars ran along her once beautiful and flushed cheeks. On her hands, a large check of her fingers had been chopped away, leaving stumps of skin. Now, it seemed as if she was only at the mercy of a man to see her for what she had on the inside. She had been stripped of everything birth had given her, and was left with a shell of a curse. She explained how the tyrannical peacekeepers had inflicted the horrors on her, and how it had been a fitting punishment for her crime; prostitution.
And convinced yourself that that's not the reason you don't see the sun anymore
I would never mitigate her for what she had done. With the face of a sex goddess she had once had it wouldn't be very hard to topple into the world that had landed her in the shell of the beauty she once had. After that day, I lost contact with Jayden, but he never faltered to waltz though my mind. On the days and nights I was feeling hollow and alone, I would slowly drift into a sea of dreams; all of which involved the one person I could never wipe from my mind after that day in the hospital- Jayden. Only, everyone has to wake up sometime.
The sun was vivid as I stretched my body out in the grass. Crackled, yellowed, and perished was the grass, and it scratched like a tooth across my skin, which had sense finally gained a ghost of a tan. Long legs were virtually bare, except for a short, very short pair of jean shorts, rips dotted about. A scrape was etched into my left knee. There was an area with loose stones and such in the dainty park on the brim of the District; I had been meandering through those areas of mention when I slipped and crashed to the ground, slicing open the skin on my knee.
My hair was billowing out like a running mustang's mane behind me, in a strawberry red blaze that shrouded the hideous grass. Clouds white and thick dragged across the sun at scattered moments. A breeze of relative speeds tugged at the hem of my lacy black tank top. I felt lone strands of rosey locks be tugged up and dance in the breeze from time to time.
And oh, oh, how could you do it?Oh, I, I, I never saw it coming
Oh oh, I need the ending
So why can't you stay, just long enough to explain?
On days when everything was slow going, I would flee from the confines of home and come to the dainty little park. I could relax here, no matter how discarded and mistreated it had aged up to be. The place had faded like denim jeans from sight and memory of my fellow district denizens. Not many other souls ventured here to this park except for the other lost, discarded ones like me. The heavy drinker, the party animal, the virgin slut, some might even have the balls to say. I just couldn't wean myself from the bottle. Each time my eyes traveled across a bottle, I had to whisk it away and guzzle it down. Soon, inevitably, I would loose my sense of judgement and go too far. At parties, sometimes, I would even emerge from sleep the next day and find myself hungover, on some random old pervert's couch. I made out with the type for the green. I would never get anywhere near any of their pants. No matter how drink and stupid I could get, I had to cling feebly to one self value. Sleeping with old dudes for money wasn't it. Seeing Celena after she had been mauled by those repulsive peacekeepers even deepened my fire to not be a whore in that way. People could toss me like a ragdoll all they wanted to with their verbal abuse, but never would I listen.
A melody of different bird calls hovered in the wind, and I let my eyelids slip over my eyes. A deep exhale helped me feel at an internal peace. I hadn't surrendered and let myself drink in a few days. The chain being broken was a surreal feeling. Not having a bottle clasped in my hand gave me a sense of security and power again. No more did I feel vulnerable. No drink, no party. No party, no drink. No party, no drink, getting a whole lot better. No more hangovers. No more making out with forty something dudes who need to get a life. No more near death stupidity. Cutting the cord felt good. If it could ever be fully cut.
I needed a guide dog out of this hell, none of which I had. No friends to grab my hand and try to drag me the rest of the way to the light. No caring boyfriend to try even harder than a friend would to save me from ruining my future. All I had was an abyss of nothing. A choking, empty, nothing where social life should have been.
And when it rains, will you always find an escape?
Just running away, from the ones who love you
From everything
Just running away, from the ones who love you
From everything
Snapping open my eyelids again, I sat bolt upright as if I had heard an earsplitting scream to chill the very deepest part of my bones. Nothing of the horror sort had happened. Sitting up quickly wasn't always involved with horrible plights, after all. Strands of yellowed and perished grass were woven into my red locks of hair. A few brushes of the hand and they were gone. Darting my eyes over everything, I saw no person that I could talk to. Thinking about how empty my social spectrum was was dragging me into darkness again. The thought of going home and finding a bottle didn't seem so horrible anymore. I could drink the pain away, copy cating what I used to do when I was younger. Just, feel alright again. It was a false feeling of assurance, I was fully aware of, but for the bittersweet moments I have it, I feel hopeful again. Eventually, I'll fade, and wake up with a hangover that kills. A few more situations like that, life in the trash can and liver disease, probable. If only there could be a bright red stop signs like there was on the streets.
You made yourself a bed at the bottom of the blackest hole
And you'll sleep till May and you'll say
That you don't want to see the sun anymore
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