Falling To Pieces [Meg]

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cass
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Falling To Pieces [Meg] Jun 5, 2012 7:29:08 GMT -5

Post by cass on Jun 5, 2012 7:29:08 GMT -5

Marina Goravich`

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing,
Just prayed to a god that I don't believe in
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
I'm falling to pieces, yeah
I'm falling to pieces .

Slowly I sink deeper and deeper into the depths of my pain, and I let it consume me, because for now it is all I have to cling to, and for now it is the only thing keeping me from breaking. Such a fragile girl I am, just a light push and I would break. I am weaker than a china doll, or a flower hanging preciously from a tree. My pain wraps itself around my very soul, clinging to my very being, with such a pressure that I cry, I cry day and night. I often wake up with a face streaked with tears. There is no respite to the never ending ache that swallows me, my soul cannot escape it, so therefore I cannot run and be free from the despair that holds me prisoner.

A long time ago this pain would have been my pleasure; this pain would have earned a smile from my pale white lips. This pain would have been my friend, and you would have seen the dying light in my eyes spark with renewed hope, and the wish to continue to fight against the chains that hold me. But now… But now there is no hope, there is no light during the day, and not even a cloudless sky draws a smile from my lips. There is no joy in this life that I live. Was there ever joy in my life? I can never play upon the memories that made me smile, they drift from my mind like a rock sinking below the surface of the water, sinking and sinking sinkingsinkingsinking disappearing to the deep dark depths of my lost mind.

There is no joy in my life, and the only sanity that I grasp now slips between my very fingers, and I watch it fall, I watch it tumble from my grasp, because there is nothing I can do to stop it from sliding through my fingers. There is no Kofa to keep my strong, she is no longer here to aid me in my fight for sanity, she is no longer protecting me from my nightmares, or stoping the painful fits that attack me with such strength I can do nothing, but curl myself into a ball and lei there hoping for nothing, but death. Then when it is over and the agony has lifted from my mind I cry, because Kofa is no longer there, because I no longer have my friend, a part of me there to protect me.

But then I remember she is with Klaus and I curse myself for my selfishness. But I can do nothing, but beg for her return. She is all I have. She is all that stops me from sliding into the dark depths of my lost mind, and losing myself to the horrid world around me and the person that I am. Because without her I am nothing. I am nothing but a frail girl that is doomed to insanity. I am nothing, but a girl who is all, but dead.Why am I alive? My eyes slide over the table I sat at. A thick layer of grime covered the bench, just like everything in this hell whole. It was all dirty; it was all dead or dying just like me. I choke back a sob, The swirling darkness of pain in me threatened to break once more.Oh Kofa, Kofa! I scream through the agony.

Kofa does not come to my aid. And a single tear slides down my cheek, it burns so unlike the dying fire in my body, because that fire only holds death, but this one brings with it the pain and agony of everything that is real in my life. There is no fake hope in the pain, but only crushed dreams and the stuff of nightmares. There is no way to escape the pain that drains the very energy from my body, it soaks it from me like a sponge and leaves me more tired and drained every waking moment. But I don’t not fear the death that is coming. For I can see it ahead in the light of every passing day, I can see it as each morning starts off more slowly, and darker. But it does not scare me. In fact I open it with welcoming arms. For it will be my saviour.

My hand gently runs over the dirt, drawing swirly patterns in the tainted table, the dirt clings to my pale skin, it looks as if my skin as be stained. Stained by my ruined life and the terrors that are all that it is. My eyes never leave my hand, I never leave the swirling motion of my fingers. Because there is hope in searching, and looking away from myself. To look would be to give myself hope, but I do not seek hope, for hope is tainted and nothing but a false joy. Hope brings nothing, but greater pain and sorrow. I can’t handle any more pain, I can’t handle anymore regret and guilt, for my life is consumed by it. So hope is not the answer to my questions. Hope is not what I need. Nothing lives when there is hope. Nothing good comes from hope. Hope is fake.

My hand begins to shake, and I bring it back to my lap, the skin is so pale, and I can imagine the veins snaking their way up my skin, I can feel the pain pouring through them. I can see the agony racing through them; it’s there right in front of me. I left my arm up and stare at it. I stare it it long and hard until I can imagine it. And I scream. I start screaming. Because in my eyes my veins are alive, they are alive like the very snakes in life, but these snakes don’t bite, they strangle me, because all I have left is my sanity and slowly that escapes me.

So I scream some more.

They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
'Coz she's moved on while I'm still grieving
And when a heart breaks
no it don't break even, even no.

Last Edit: Jun 5, 2012 19:18:12 GMT -5 by cass

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Falling To Pieces [Meg] Jun 12, 2012 1:40:48 GMT -5

Post by meg. on Jun 12, 2012 1:40:48 GMT -5

And I'll cross oceans like never before
So you can feel the way I feel it too
Maybe I had said something that was wrong

[/color]
Can I make it better with the lights turned on [/center]

ZAVEN DREVARSKY

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Once, when she was younger, Zaven had found a kitten. She had never been the mothering type, but the finger-length creature, eyes stuck shut and shivering on the grey concrete, stuck its underdeveloped claws into a nerve that the girl had never known existed. She had always lived each moment for herself, without paying attention to what anyone else felt, how sheaffected them. If she took her thoughts off the rise and fall of her chest and put them into someone else’s, she was quite convinced her pathetic lungs would cease to function. But this little animal, haplessly writhing on the ground, did something for her. Although it could give her nothing, she felt, all of a sudden, that she had a duty to mother it, to give it a shot at opening it’s eyes to the heavy-sitting smog of district three.

For two days, she awoke in the middle of the night to feed the thing. She found some sort of comfort in seeing the animal take the bottle, in imagining the little creature grow bigger and stronger, until eventually it was old enough to take on the world. She even took pride in the ting, watching it wobble on it’s tiny feet and even, just one, let out a little meow.

The third day, she had been asked to go into town by her mother. That in itself was a rare occurrence- normally, her mum was too petrified of something with her weedy lungs going wrong. But the fact that Za had to ask herself whether she wanted to leave the apartment that had become like a prison to her- this was a one off situation. However, the promise of fresh air (~~or not so fresh, considering the amount of pollution in the district~~) won her interior argument. Zaven debated taking the animal with her in her satchel, but in the end decided that the risks outweighed the benefits, and left in curled on a little wire heated blanket she had made the night she found the critter.

She came back to find a corpse.

The kitten was never made for this world. It turned like a key in her chest, the fact that she could have done more, that had she been there, the death would never have occurred. It was obviously what she had done that had kicked the life from the defenseless body- it had been fine before she had left. Now, it would never get to see the blur of dark and heavy and emotions that Zaven called her world. She blamed herself for it endlessly, and the episode, though it had only lasted a mouthful of days, confirmed what she already thought she knew- helping others only hurt herself.

- - -

What she’s doing here, even she doesn’t know. People spotting, perhaps- inventing scenarios for each person who walks into the dimly-lit shoebox of a café. Her bottom placed on the very edge of a flimsy plastic chair, the old woman who walks through the door, mumbling under her breath slightly, is on her way to kill an abusive son-in-law, smothered silently in his sleep. The busty girl wiping the dirty counter with an equally filthy rag is the daughter of a victor who has drunk away most of her wealth, and refuses to share the little she has left, perhaps. The man in the clean suit with a large chocolate muffin in front of him- something that Za had never been able to afford in her life- was an inventor whose creations brought easier living to every Capitol resident but nothing to his own district.

And the girl at the table next to her, whose screams caused everyone to whip around their heads and stare? Zaven had no need to invent a horrific story for her. She watched the Games- everyone did- and she’s seen this girls eyes before. Klaus’s sister- Marissa? Merinda? Marina. Last games, she had known the female tribute, and now it seemed that this time around she would now know the male tribute- at least, through his sister.

“Marina, shush,” she said, grabbing the girl by the shoulders and marching her out of the room as if she’s known her forever, not in the manner of two strangers. “You do that, you scream like that, and they’ll lock you up and never let you out, understand me?” Being locked up was something that Za knew about, an area of expertise. “If you want, you can talk to me, but you can’t do that again, understand?”

The sky above them promised rain, but gave them nothing but a muggy breeze for now. The light blouse she wore fluttered like a dying insect. Being outside wasn’t good for her lungs, but she would live. Marina, on the other hand, may not. There was something about those deep brown eyes that brought back memories of the little kitten that she had found, four or five years ago now. There was something helpless about them, and yet something that Zaven wanted so badly to be able to help. And although she knew that it could only lead to failure and inevitably, heartbreak, what could she do but try?

Could I be, was I there
It felt so crystal in the air
I still want to drown whenever you leave

[/color]
Please teach me gently how to breathe [/size][/center]
[/size][/blockquote]

cass
Retired Staff

4,822 POSTS

last seen Oct 24, 2021 18:11:43 GMT -5

Falling To Pieces [Meg] Jun 22, 2012 4:08:19 GMT -5

Post by cass on Jun 22, 2012 4:08:19 GMT -5

Marina Goravich`

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing,
Just prayed to a god that I don't believe in
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
I'm falling to pieces, yeah
I'm falling to pieces .

Each and every scream raced up my throat, it burned through my body, leaving behind an agony that was only stopped by the next scream that escaped my lips, tearing into the spoken realm, for all to be heard. Every scream was part of me that tried to escape, leaving me dead. I looked down at my wrist and at the snaking veins as the continue to weave their way up my body, engulfing me in a liquid fire that burned brighter and more pain-filled then any spark of life within me. My body shuddered under the next scream the pain within it echoed around the small shop, people stared, but I couldn’t care less. I was lost there was nothing holding me up anymore, nothing keeping me strong and stopping me from falling into the dark abyss that was my mind and the insanity that controlled it.

I no longer had the will to continue my minds fight, a fight in which I was losing. I always lost. My body was more tired and drained as each day moved on, I knew what was coming. I might be crazy, but I was not stupid. I was not a silly girl that didn’t understand anything. I knew that this screaming would end with me dead or more likely in a prison. The Capitol might not like us, but crazy people were dangerous, they needed to be looked up and kept out of the way. I could not stop. Stopping would be letting the fire that burned in me consume me; it was unlike the pain that my body craved. Physical pain was a treasure to me, it helped me cope and remember who I was. Mental pain was my fall. It was everything much that I wasn’t, it could control me, it made me give up and forget who I was.

That was why I had Kofa. She was my weapon against that pain, my real friend who held me strong. Everyone said she wasn’t real, they all shunned me and ignored me for my false beliefs, but she was real, she was more real then the world that surrounded me, unlike this world she helped, she kept me going and alive. Without her I was as good as dead, yet I had given her to my brother, the boy who was facing a terrible gruesome death everyday. I hated myself for giving her up and wanting her back, I hated myself for screaming and crying for her return, even though she was helping my brother, keeping him sane, when I could never help myself.

The truth was I couldn’t see him turn like me. I can’t imagine kind, sweet and innocent ~~not so innocent anymore~~ Klaus turning into a monster, just like me. I was a monster scarred by pain, the girl with nothing, but her imaginary friend keeping her alive. No, my brother could not become a monster a person who only desired her own needs, someone who craved physical pain and screamed everyday for a girl who would not come. He couldn’t be me, because I was broken. I was nothing, but a shattered girl nothing anyone should be proud of, a no one. It would hurt more than anything if my Klaus become like me, I hate who I am, and there is nothing to be proud of. Insanity is nothing to want, sometimes it helps, than other times it is everything that brings you down and stops you from being strong.

I didn’t know the girl. I had never seen her in my life, but to be honest I hadn’t seen many people. I walked with my eyes closed; I only saw what I wanted to see. I let everything else around me fall away. If I didn’t need it I didn’t want to see it, but good memories had a knack for slipping through my fingers and leaving me, whilst the bad memories that I tried desperately to ignore stay. They grow stronger and slowly evolve into more then just a bad memory they change and become my fears, my hates and my pain. I guess it was sad to say that I was still screaming. The girl grabbed my arm and the scream I had been building up was yanked away and instead a small gasp escaped my lips as this girl drags me from the small café I had sat in.

Fear replaced the pain, sinking its claws deep into my body. The pain slipped through the cracks and disappears, hiding, waiting for its next opportunity to strike. I was scared, was this the person who would take me away, was she the girl who would drag me to my prison where I would see nobody and feel nothing. Had I finally crossed the line into full insanity? My eyes widen as she starts talking. I was surprised, how the hell did she know my name? Who was she? The words of a question formed on my lips, but before I could let them fall I realise why. It was because of him. It was all because of my brother. They – she knew me because of Klaus. I swallowed hard as she kept talking. She was a young girl, around my age.

But she was so unlike me. I didn’t know her, and yet her eyes were filled with a concern that I had not thought existed in this world. Least of all for me. I turned my eyes away from hers; the fear I had felt slowly disappeared. The pain was creeping back up on me, but I pushed it down with all my strength. This girl was right. I knew she was I had thought of it so many times. No one would hesitate to lock me up. I’m unstable and frankly a lunatic. There was nothing right about me. I had no Kofa to keep me walking and sane; I had no one, least of all my family.

I was sure they didn’t really care. They never had. Now that Klaus was gone everything was focused on watching the games and making sure he made it home safe and sound. I didn’t believe he would come home. But I wanted him to. I looked down at the ground taking a few steady breaths, trying to calm myself and my body. I knew what this girl was probably thinking,. Just like the rest of them. Crazy. It bothered me that they all thought like that and none of them ever thought who I was and everything that had happened. Or the fact that maybe it was just me, it was who I was. I give the girl a weak attempt at a smile. It wasn’t much of a smile as I had started to cry.

”Maybe it would be best if I was locked up and away from everyone.” I mumbled, through the few tears that had fallen. I wasn’t looking for pity or sympathy; it was honestly just how I felt.

They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
'Coz she's moved on while I'm still grieving
And when a heart breaks
no it don't break even, even no.

Last Edit: Jun 22, 2012 4:09:23 GMT -5 by cass