Chapter Four: Critical Acclaim

I am a terrible in my eyes. I can’t do anything right. I really feel disconnected from the world.

I do it for the first time after I get sharper tools. I cut into my rotting flesh. I make a deep cut into my arm. The blood escapes in all directions and lands on my bed. The pain is bearable but well need to make me feel like I still have some feelings left.

Lights flicker. I sit there alone. I feel the dread that something will bad happen. I sit there for a few moments. Then something bad happens. My phone goes off. I happily look who it’s from Jessica… Arg. My somewhat of an ex. Our “breakup” was fairly simple just like whatever relationship we had. We hadn’t talked in over a month and this text was out of the blue.

Hello. How has things been?

Do I even reply to this? I mean, she had treated me like s**t since things dissolved. She spread rumors and tried to turn my friends against me. I reply anyways.

Hola. Things have been relaxing. You?

Not one of my smoothest texts but I wasn’t trying to impress her. She replies and we talk for a bit. I’m bored out of my mind. I look at the corner and see Madison looking at me. She’s a bit pissed, she was the jealous type. I know a few times when I had Jessica over and was kissing her; I could see Madison in the corner mad. I mean, she always wanted me to find someone else, but Jessica didn’t pass her test. Madison has higher standards for my future mates then I did. That always made me sad to think like that.

I always wanted to tell someone about what was going with me. First, I didn’t have a single friend who would try to commit me based on what was on my mind. You can’t just tell someone you want to die. They think you’re crazy. I did want to die so I guess I was crazy. I would never kill myself though. I don’t think I had the balls.

As I sit there thinking shadows like cats running around the room. They go here then there, never really stopping. They just disappear into the walls or out through the window. I hate real cats, but really hated these damn ghost cats.

I feel the blood crawl through my veins. It smoothly makes it way all the way through the body. It feels weird and natural, just like my existence. The blood finally stops leaving my cut and I there oddly smiling.

I urge to smoke. I see the cigarettes just lying there wanting my gentle touch. I don’t even know why cigarettes are in front of me, I didn’t buy them. I have never smoked before; it seemed like a random urge. Same thing with the urge to drink. The smooth taste in my body would ease the pain I feel. And even more, it would ease my insanity that was on set. Just a matter of time till I needed to be locked away for everyone’s good including myself. I wasn’t a violent person parse. Sometimes I would see an a*****e or someone I hated and I just had the urge to leap up and attack them. I don’t know why, it was just a slight urge. Urges control my life. Urged to love. Urged to be loved. Urged to feel free.

Late night surgery is well needed. I need to free myself from any demons. I slice into myself again. I go to dig out my barely beating now blacken heart. I make the cut directly over it and the blood oozes out. I slice through the muscle and skin. The cut itself is very freeing. The pain it brings me is harsh but I struggle through it. I pass out before I can ever get the broken heart out. After I wake up from the bathroom floor, I hobble to my room and go to bed.

I always fiddle with the ring. The ring she picked out for me. The ring that meant the world to me. It was my own real physical part of her. I needed to have it on me at all times. Anytime I have it on it makes my hand feel weighted down. The world would just rest on my hand, nearly at any moment crushing it.

I decide I should try to sleep. Maybe no nightmares this time, which would be nice but almost impossible. I bet all be better in the morning. I fall asleep.

I wake up in my dream world. I’m in a beautiful grassy field, clear with no trees. I look around, searching for something or someone. I see out of the corner of my eye a little blonde headed girl. Maybe around the age of eight. I can see she has long hair, very green eyes, and a cute semi round face with teeth barely coming in. She is gracefully skipping around alone in the middle of the field. I suddenly realize deep down in my heart, that she is my daughter. She looks like a combination between me and the love of my life. A cold tear runs down my face, she reminds me of the love of my life. I go to move closer to her. I watch the little girl skipping when suddenly she falls. I call out to her, “Lilly”. The name that me and my love always wanted to name our daughter. I run over to see her laying there, gushing blood. I go to check her pulse. But nothing is there. I go to pick her up then I wake up.

            I turn to look at my beautiful ghost. She is crying. I want to comfort her. I try to get up but she disappears.

I embrace my pillow to feel that it is her. I want it to be her, so badly. It just can’t be her.

Reviews

[guiltyascharged]

The feeling of losing the one you love and they can never come back... It hurts. I know. My own father died when I was only 7 and I don't have many memories of him. Just pictures and stories from my Mum.