Post by ☼Star Faultz☼ on Jun 16, 2014 18:48:13 GMT -5
Why am I so emotional?
No it's not a good look, gain some self control
And deep down I know this never works
But you can lay with me so it doesn't hurt
~~~~~~~~
I always fantasized about my demons throughout my childhood; wondered if the other children had them to. I suppose the thought of someone sharing my burden helped me sleep at night. Because, frankly, I don't know how to kill my Bad Habit, nor do I know if I ever want it out of my life. I brought it into this world with my naivety, nursed it with my ego, and raised it up with my close-mindedness so long ago that I may not be able to function without it myself. This addiction was my co-efficient; my other half- I don't know how else to say it without sounding so desperate. What I really mean is... I don't know how to lie to the person reading this.
People would find me more manageable if it was a different problem in my life, you see. Pregnancy. Anger. A history of being sexually abused. Honestly, those I love could endure something like that. It would help them get over the tragic event if someone had defiled my body, and I was not defiling it myself with the drugs I use-
I can't lie to you. 'Never was a great liar. They would react the same way if I was a Murderer, or a Kleptomaniac. Hell, they'd still wouldn't be able look me in the eye if I was born with Down-Syndrome. As a family with high hopes and even higher beginnings, I was such a disappointment that I was disowned without ever being told directly that I was exiled- like I was some strange passerby that you didn't even care to acknowledge because you had better things to do then pay attention to your surroundings. And we all had better things to do then that in District Four- we had to have better things to do.
But, you do have to admit- that you, too, have you demons. So all I ask is that you do not pity me as you carry on with your reading. In fact, I shall pity you. Perhaps you will one day have the courage to do just as I have done.
Let. Everything. Out.
Because it isn't healthy to keep it in.
That's why I'm me.
Appearance
----
"What are you doing? Snuff her out already!"
Snuff me out already.
As meaty hands wrapped themselves around my throat and slammed into the water, I could do nothing but kick, sputter, and scream, clawing at my attacker's arms frantically; like some stray cat caught in a trap and desperately wanting out of its unfortunate situation. "Stop," I breathed, my small, pale frame wedged between the older, pudgy boy on top of me, and the shallow, ocean floor. Yet, despite my cries of fear and pain, he did not stop, and tightened his grip around my neck- skillfully asphyxiating me, his size and strength an apparent advantage.
My throat ached as I continued to dig my nails into his arm. He was killing me. And he didn't care. His powder blue eyes gazed menacingly into my dirt ones as he shook me senseless. "Please.." His freckles were dancing upon his cheeks as he winced at the little damage I was doing to him. He was winning. In fact, he enjoyed having this power over me, pressing his body against mine as he once again slammed my head into the water, my temple barely missing a rock on the trip down. My chapped lips twitched in agony. This was dominating the competition- and the only thing I could do was keep slapping and pinching; praying that I could get lucky and he would let me go. After all, I couldn't stop moving- I was too slippery- too jittery.
Finally, after he lifted me back up for the last time, my narrow arms flailed wildly, splashing sea-water everywhere. The fight should have ended several minutes ago- someone should have blown the whistle already and declared him the winner. I gave up so long ago, with the begging for mercy between my clenched pearly whites as Ajax kept pummeling me until my face was bloody and numb. He, too noticed the lack of interference by our peers.
This is when he really picked up his pace.
With a dark chuckle escaping the kid's lips, my stomach sank pitifully. "Just enjoy it a bit, Farro. You're already a druggie. If you just stopped moving, you'd enjoy it more." He panted, starting to feel the consequences of lifting me up and battering me to the point where I could not even focus on his face: Fatigue. He noticed my refusal to give up. Like he had done for the last ten minutes, he held me under a water until I twitched, needing air more than ever. I couldn't see where I was swinging anymore. My eyes were becoming so swollen that it hurt to focus on the threat.
And then, he stopped bringing me up. This time, he flipped me over and the overweight boy placed his knees on my back. God, it hurt so much. But I couldn't take it anymore- the struggle. I could hear the roaring laughter and cheers from the other children as I stopped wrestling around. To them, not breathing, not fighting back- I was dead. And they were cheering about it. So, I tried my best to hold back the desire to get breath- I would play this game. I could play this game.
My lungs burned terribly as Ajax shifted off of my thought-to-be unconscious body. Turning me back over as I played possum, he tugged at my dark, drenched hair before letting it go- having it hang limply on my shoulders. Mustering all the might I had, I pretended not to feel it. But, sure enough- it felt like someone was ripping the flesh off my scalp. For just one more second, he studied my expression, before placing his head in my hands.
"Fuck. I killed her, guys!" I took a small, silent breath since his attention was elsewhere. I was alive. But, it hurt to think that these kids thought so... lowly of me. Ajax wasn't even focused on the fact that he killed me, I thought as I squeezed my eyes shut as much I could so the others wouldn't rat my status out. "I didn't know she would fucking....- fuck!"
"Calm down, 'Jax," I heard one kid laugh. "We'll just stuff her somewhere."
And that's when I couldn't stand it anymore. I don't know where the rage came from- I wasn't the type of person to let my rage pour out like this- but this was the breaking point for me. I quietly brushed my limp arm over a rock in the water, grasped it...-
"Watch out!"
With one great cry and an even greater swing, I brought it down on his head. Luckily for him, his reflexes were fast enough- and he ended up being caught in the nose; a sickening crack filling the room. He screamed loudly, and- needles to say- I wasn't feeling so merciful. He covered my mouth so that you couldn't hear my sound, but... I wanted to hear his, even though it meant that Trainers would be flying out of the doors immediately. But, after a pause- I realized that these kids just wanted to see bloodshed. Nothing personal.
Maybe it was the Morphling, because I couldn't stop- I was just so enraged that I wanted to... kill him. Now, those certainly weren't his intentions for me, but torture was. He'd get everything and more that I had gotten.
"Sto- stop!" Ajax put his hands up in the water like it would help him. He was so disoriented from the previous blow that he could do nothing to stop my next one. I struck him in the eye next, leaving him sobbing as he placed his hands over his face- really roaring in agony. He was really sobbing. I was even, now- I know I was more than even. My scabs would heal in time, but his sight...
Yet it was like I couldn't stop- no matter how hard I tried, I was still angry. As I struck him again, my chest tightened. I left his face black and purple, and then I stood over him like... I was so in charge; I was the one who had the power, and it hurt so much, but felt so good at the same time. I was no better than him, now. I was a monster, too- wiping his blood from my thick lashes as he let out guttural cries from my seemingly endless beating. Smash. Smash. Smash. Crack. Snap.
And then, it went black.
Personality
---
I'm not a fiery person, no matter what some of my actions scream otherwise. But, Careers prey on the weak, sinking their teeth into me when they get a whiff of my pathetic scent, reeking of insecurity and my darkest worries. After all, I was never as lion-hearted as my title entails. I was the lowest of the low, an underdog in my own right. Because, I was addicted to a poison; a pill or a liquid or a powder- it was all the same, and it was everywhere; in my dreams, in my day-to-day life:
Morphling.
And with it, I could be what they all wanted me to be: Limitless. My mother and father hounded me when they found out about it; when they were notified by the Training Facility that I had maimed a person. Permanent. Proud for a split second before they discovered that I was so high that I couldn't come down. Then, the disgust fell upon them like rain, drenching them in shame. Their daughter was a druggie, stuck in a feigned sublimity and why, they did not know. But, how? How could they not know?
I was just trying to fit in, really- I was a girl who could be moved my a trend, or a phase. People were throwing me into a mold and expecting me to fit perfectly. This was a fate worse than death; a cruel reality. And, how sad was I to fall prey to peer-pressure; to be what I just could not be: A Career. Please believe me, I have tried all my life to gain that fire and that drive that only the greatest have, but I can't- this Demon is my only chance really: to be even close to achieving what the greatest have achieved. To have a taste of that nerve that they have.
<WIP>
