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⌇вяσкєη ωιη∂σωs, sтαιηє∂ glαss sкιη⌇
message 2201:
by
[deleted user]
(new)
Feb 20, 2015 08:58PM
I won't. I won't. I know.
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ἀℓℓἱℯ ↯ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶳᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵐᶤᶳᶳ↯ wrote: "You're not, you're very clever, Kassi."
Far from it. I have to go.
Far from it. I have to go.
But you could! You just have to try first.
Whatever {Beauty Comes in Many Forms} wrote: "ἀℓℓἱℯ ↯ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶳᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵐᶤᶳᶳ↯ wrote: "You're not, you're very clever, Kassi."
Far from it. I have to go."
>.<
Okay..goodbye, sweetie.
I love you.
Far from it. I have to go."
>.<
Okay..goodbye, sweetie.
I love you.
The tears rushed down my face. Guilt ate me whole. This was my fault. It seemed it was always my fault. I hated the yelling, but I made it happen. I hated it when she cried, but I made her cry anyway. I was a terrible person. I didn't deserve to live.
"This is your fault!" my fragile mother sobbed. She didn't seem fragile, but I knew her to be so. I could practically hear her tears, even down here in the comfort of my little basement bedroom. Though it felt more than a little less comfortable now. "She never acted out like this until you moved! She was fine until her father left to rarely come back home!"
"Oh, I'm sorry I have to maintain a good job to keep our family intact! You've caught a glimpse of poverty, do you really wanna go back?" he shouted in return. His tone was stern, but not mean. He just seemed frustrated. I remembered when he was talking about. It was a little after I turned five that it was the worst. My hospital bills. All of the problems I had, worsening since my birth. Just another thing that was my fault. Everything about me destroyed them.
I sobbed, just wanted to drown them out. I look at my picture frame, embracing the irony of the fact that the picture said: "Love the life you live. Live the life you love", as I pulled out the Styrofoam around the edges to reveal my little pencil sharpener blades. I pulled out the smallest one, which happened to be the sharpest, and pulled my stretchy little shorts up so high you could see my underwear. I cut open my thigh, my evil thoughts enthralled by the burning pain. I cut it again. Then again. Then one more time. It hurt so bad, and the torture in my twisted little mind was revealed in the dark red of my own blood. My pain was real because it was no longer in my head. It was visible.
I watched the maroon liquid run down the side of my leg and repeated my usual thought for the thousandth time that day. What's keeping me here? I should die. These petty arguments would end. My pain would end. Their pain would end. I know I made a few promises...but they won't know. They won't care when it comes down to it. My death could fix everything.
I just wanted it to get better. I wanted to feel better. I couldn't even say I felt okay anymore. It all hurt. I hurt. I was falling apart and no one could see it. The stupid arguments between my parents cut my thighs. The cruel words of the kids at school sliced my wrists. The face I saw in the mirror left incisions on my stomach. But it was my own blade that actually put them there. My life just brought me to pull it out.
I wasn't okay, but I smiled. I smiled at everyone and played along. That was life. A big twisted act, and I was the main character in the play. The hero and the villain. The sidekick. The damsel in distress. All in one.
These thoughts hit hard as I slid on my jacket and put up the hood, so no one could see my face. I put myself in my baggy black sweatpants so you couldn't see the blood. I trumped up the stairs and right past them out the door, into the suffocating icy air of the night. I ran. I ran as far as I could, my phone vibrating over and over in my pocket. I finally collapsed in my hiding spot, an hour later. An abandoned little shack about eight miles south of my house.
I pulled out my phone and looked over the texts. I had twenty-five unread messages. Six were from him. Most of them were just greetings, but the last one caught my attention. "Hey, I'm worried about you. I saw your mom post on Facebook that you ran. Please go home. I want you safe. You will barely even survive. It's a dangerous world. Please go back. For me. I care about you."
I don't know why I did it, but I responded. "Maybe I'll go back tomorrow. I'm fine. I just have to stay here for the night. I can't go home."
The rest were from my parents and my best friend saying to come back and that they were worried. Ignore.
I fell asleep freezing and woke up the next morning to sirens and red and blue flashing lights. Obviously I was in trouble, and clearly they had found me. This only had one way of ending.
I hadn't thought she would really call 911. I figured she'd know I'd come back. It was still dark outside. My phone said 3:47. Too early. I wanted to sleep and let them carry me out, but I just waited. I stared at the door waiting for them to drag me out.
A spider crawled on my hand. I just watched it. The familiar little arachnid wasn't venomous, and if it was it wouldn't bite me. I kinda wished it would. Death was on my mind as the first man walked in, his dark blue suit blending in with the night. It was my neighbour, who was in fact a cop.
"Hey, hun your sister came over. She wanted me to look and J told me you hid here. Are you okay?" he asked.
I nodded my head, emotionally numb. "I'm always okay. Or fine. Right now I might be great," I replied. "I just wanna sleep."
He put an arm around me and lifted me ever so gently to my feet. He helped me over to the blurry lights that were still flashing. It made me quite dizzy. Soon after I fell asleep in the passenger seat of a cop car.
"This is your fault!" my fragile mother sobbed. She didn't seem fragile, but I knew her to be so. I could practically hear her tears, even down here in the comfort of my little basement bedroom. Though it felt more than a little less comfortable now. "She never acted out like this until you moved! She was fine until her father left to rarely come back home!"
"Oh, I'm sorry I have to maintain a good job to keep our family intact! You've caught a glimpse of poverty, do you really wanna go back?" he shouted in return. His tone was stern, but not mean. He just seemed frustrated. I remembered when he was talking about. It was a little after I turned five that it was the worst. My hospital bills. All of the problems I had, worsening since my birth. Just another thing that was my fault. Everything about me destroyed them.
I sobbed, just wanted to drown them out. I look at my picture frame, embracing the irony of the fact that the picture said: "Love the life you live. Live the life you love", as I pulled out the Styrofoam around the edges to reveal my little pencil sharpener blades. I pulled out the smallest one, which happened to be the sharpest, and pulled my stretchy little shorts up so high you could see my underwear. I cut open my thigh, my evil thoughts enthralled by the burning pain. I cut it again. Then again. Then one more time. It hurt so bad, and the torture in my twisted little mind was revealed in the dark red of my own blood. My pain was real because it was no longer in my head. It was visible.
I watched the maroon liquid run down the side of my leg and repeated my usual thought for the thousandth time that day. What's keeping me here? I should die. These petty arguments would end. My pain would end. Their pain would end. I know I made a few promises...but they won't know. They won't care when it comes down to it. My death could fix everything.
I just wanted it to get better. I wanted to feel better. I couldn't even say I felt okay anymore. It all hurt. I hurt. I was falling apart and no one could see it. The stupid arguments between my parents cut my thighs. The cruel words of the kids at school sliced my wrists. The face I saw in the mirror left incisions on my stomach. But it was my own blade that actually put them there. My life just brought me to pull it out.
I wasn't okay, but I smiled. I smiled at everyone and played along. That was life. A big twisted act, and I was the main character in the play. The hero and the villain. The sidekick. The damsel in distress. All in one.
These thoughts hit hard as I slid on my jacket and put up the hood, so no one could see my face. I put myself in my baggy black sweatpants so you couldn't see the blood. I trumped up the stairs and right past them out the door, into the suffocating icy air of the night. I ran. I ran as far as I could, my phone vibrating over and over in my pocket. I finally collapsed in my hiding spot, an hour later. An abandoned little shack about eight miles south of my house.
I pulled out my phone and looked over the texts. I had twenty-five unread messages. Six were from him. Most of them were just greetings, but the last one caught my attention. "Hey, I'm worried about you. I saw your mom post on Facebook that you ran. Please go home. I want you safe. You will barely even survive. It's a dangerous world. Please go back. For me. I care about you."
I don't know why I did it, but I responded. "Maybe I'll go back tomorrow. I'm fine. I just have to stay here for the night. I can't go home."
The rest were from my parents and my best friend saying to come back and that they were worried. Ignore.
I fell asleep freezing and woke up the next morning to sirens and red and blue flashing lights. Obviously I was in trouble, and clearly they had found me. This only had one way of ending.
I hadn't thought she would really call 911. I figured she'd know I'd come back. It was still dark outside. My phone said 3:47. Too early. I wanted to sleep and let them carry me out, but I just waited. I stared at the door waiting for them to drag me out.
A spider crawled on my hand. I just watched it. The familiar little arachnid wasn't venomous, and if it was it wouldn't bite me. I kinda wished it would. Death was on my mind as the first man walked in, his dark blue suit blending in with the night. It was my neighbour, who was in fact a cop.
"Hey, hun your sister came over. She wanted me to look and J told me you hid here. Are you okay?" he asked.
I nodded my head, emotionally numb. "I'm always okay. Or fine. Right now I might be great," I replied. "I just wanna sleep."
He put an arm around me and lifted me ever so gently to my feet. He helped me over to the blurry lights that were still flashing. It made me quite dizzy. Soon after I fell asleep in the passenger seat of a cop car.
Yeah. I would've gone back after a day or two. I have run away for a week before. They know I come back. That was the first time I was found. Ever.
>.< but...you could have gotten hurt..
But you could have.
I'm really glad you're okay though...*hugs*
I love you Kassi...
I'm really glad you're okay though...*hugs*
I love you Kassi...
I love you, Allie. I'll always be okay.
I feel the same way but even though it feels like that it would be smart not to put yourself in a situation that could get you hurt..
I'm not getting hurt. I know where I am. I know how to defend myself. I'm okay.
You can't defend yourself if someone shoots you from the bushes because they're 'bored'.
be careful please...I don't want to lose you.
be careful please...I don't want to lose you.
No one does that in my town >.<
Any one could or they could just be passing by.
I'm fine. Nobody comes near my hiding spot, but I need to find a new one, now.
Someone could or a snake could or a deadly spider or a car or ...anything....
Our only deadly snake is loud, I know my spiders and all we have are daddy long legs. Cars? No.
Well it could okay?
So be careful..take something to protect you at least.
So be careful..take something to protect you at least.
I have a pocket knife on me 24/7.
I love you guys too, I do....It's just stuff.
I know..it'll be okay..you are loved...
A penny for my thoughts,
Oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar,
They're worth so much more,
After I'm a goner,
And maybe then you'll hear,
The words I've been signing,
Funny when you're dead,
How people start listening.
Oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar,
They're worth so much more,
After I'm a goner,
And maybe then you'll hear,
The words I've been signing,
Funny when you're dead,
How people start listening.
As much as you can with how little I let you know.
Whatever {My Smile is a Disguise} wrote: "A penny for my thoughts,
Oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar,
They're worth so much more,
After I'm a goner,
And maybe then you'll hear,
The words I've been signing,
Funny when you're dead,
How pe..."
love that song
Oh no, I'll sell them for a dollar,
They're worth so much more,
After I'm a goner,
And maybe then you'll hear,
The words I've been signing,
Funny when you're dead,
How pe..."
love that song
In fact....I really wanna fall off this chair.
The word to use in my script!
Now for the other kajillion words....
it's personal
Books mentioned in this topic
A Midsummer Night’s Dream (other topics)The Great Gatsby (other topics)
The Great Gatsby (other topics)
The Great Gatsby (other topics)
The Great Gatsby (other topics)
