Category: Uncategorized

The Fire Within Part 2

I was tripping over myself as I ran down the corridor, looking behind me every so often. When I was outside in the warm summer air, my eyes searched for Cal while my mind raced about who the hell this psycho was that had just tried to kill me. There he was sitting alone under a large oak tree, reading some physics book. His tanned skin against  his blonde hair made it look golden even in the shade of the tree. I rushed over, by the time I was standing in front of him, my breathing was heavy and I could feel the sweat running down my forehead. He looked at me; his eyebrows raised and then placed the book aside.

“What is it now? Did Mr Keegan try to give you extra work again?” he asked, rummaging in his backpack.

“No nothing like that. Look this crazy girl or boy not sure to be honest just tried to kill me” I gabbled looking at him intensely.

“Look Lia I know you think this place is weird, we all do. I mean people just don’t suddenly take you away to a place like this and it not turn out to be weird. Seriously though we have been here for two years and it seems pretty ordinary. You want my opinion I think its good here; we have nice bedrooms and tasty food so I don’t understand what your problem is. You always want it to be something else, like in movies where we are all actually aliens or something and they want to do tests on us. ” he said, pulling out an apple from his bag.

“No listen to me this person pulled off the door in the bathroom and tried to kill me. You’re going to think I am crazy but something strange happened to me, fire I am not kidding just came from my skin and went onto the man or woman. I ran away but I think they’re dead”

He stood up to face me, still holding his apple “Show me then, show me this burnt body of some woman or man that you think you murdered”

“I just ran away from there, I don’t want to go back Cal what if they are dead and it’s entirely my fault.”

“Seriously Lia you just don’t want to go because this is all bulls**t” he said taking a bite out of his apple.

“Right fine I’ll go but only to prove that it happened” I said turning away from him back to the door from which I had come from.

I heard him behind me rushing to shove his stuff in his bag and then him running to catch up with me.

I stayed silent as he went on about how I was totally lying and had a wild imagination. When we reached the girl’s bathroom, he looked at the door and sighed.

“I really don’t want to go in but I am only doing this to prove I’m right okay? If this is some joke to get me to go into the girl’s bathroom so you can tell everybody later, I will kill you” he said before he pushed open the door.

I followed and looked to the stall which should have been all burnt and broken but it wasn’t. The bathroom was back to its usual state; even the mirror was no longer cracked. There was no one here.  Cal looked at me and raised his eyebrow again.

“I knew it this was a joke, seriously Lia this isn’t fair. I don’t pull this c**p on you to embarrass you, do I?” he turned and left me alone staring at the stall.

“I hadn’t imagined it all, had I?” I thought.

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The Widow in the Window

 

The widow in the window,

Is sitting all alone.

She doesn’t seem to realise

That no one’s coming home.

 

She’ll sit there for hours,

Looking down the drive.

Imagining his face,

Waiting for him to arrive.

 

When it gets dark,

She will still be there.

With tears in her eyes,

And an ongoing stare.

 

The house they had built together,

Was once full of love and life,

Now it creaks in pain and loneliness

As she is no longer his wife.

 

His things are all around her,

She never puts them away.

His unscuffed shoes on the floor,

That is where they will stay.

 

She keeps his badge,

Safely locked in a drawer.

Like one day he will need it,

To fight the next war.

 

The flowers are dead,

Petals litter the ground.

They are the last ones,

That will be found.

 

In her black clothes,

From some days ago.

The dust is settling,

Like the winter’s snow.

 

Light shines through the window,

Onto her withered, pale, cold face.

Strangely, now a smile is on her lips,

She has gone to her happy place.

 

Innocent Part 2 (Short Story)

A raven squawking brings me out of the memory I have half created. I look at it perched on the monstrous oak tree; it looks at me unblinking, like it knows me. A cold chill goes down my spine and I shiver.  I look back to the grave and can’t breathe again. My head feels heavy and my throat tightens as I try holding back my tears. My vision blurs. I look up to the dark gray sky and squeeze my eyes firmly shut.

I don’t understand, why her? Why not me?  Then it’s back. The memory begins to unfold once more.

 

I push the steering wheel sharply to the left, my jaw clenched. I feel my body being thrown to the side, my shoulder slams into the door but I hold on through the pain. There are screams. Then I hear the sound of screeching metal and then darkness.

I smell petrol, smoke and blood. I open my eyes; my head is on the steering wheel. A warm, sticky liquid runs down my nose and as it reaches my mouth I taste iron. I try to move my left arm, but I can’t. I panic as I continually try to move it but it won’t budge. My right arm however, I use to wipe the blood from my damp face.

As I do so I look to my right. I want to scream but no sound comes out.  My little sister is looking at me, terrified. She gives a deep rattling breath. She moves her lips a little but she can’t seem to form any words. Oh god! I think to myself, as I see the blood forming around the tree branch that’s pieced in her chest. I squeeze my lips together and take a breath as I use my good arm to take her hand which is firmly by her side. It’s going to be fine I tell her, she only blinks in response.

I look frantically around but there isn’t anyone around not even the little girl. I try to move, try to free myself but there is no way, my arm is firmly stuck.  I look back at my sweet, little, innocent sister and let the realisation that she will probably die here sink in. I can’t cry or break down I think to myself as I take her hand back in mine and just talk to her. She listens and tears fall down her cheeks as I tell her stories of our childhood. I know that these funny stories don’t dull the pain but I hope and pray that it’s enough to keep her strong.

Her breathing starts to get shallower and shallower by the minute and her skin is beginning to drain of colour as the blood on her chest spreads and spreads. I love you I say when I know that the time has come to say goodbye. Her mouth twitches, her eyes flicker and she lets out her final breath like a sigh and she’s gone.

Dear my Depression,

 

Dear my depression,

You’re in my head constantly, you tell me I am not good enough and that I am worthless, that no one likes me. That people are trying to avoid me or find me annoying. You’re like a black cloud hovering over my head, even when something is making me happy, you poke holes in it and make me feel down.

Sometimes you make me cry uncontrollably to the point, where I struggle to stop and when I do within seconds I am crying again. You make it hard for me to get to sleep, you make it hard to leave my bedroom, you make me want to stay even though I know deep down I need human contact to bring me even just a little bit out of the darkness.

You are the reason I listen to sad songs and watch sad movies, you are the reason I struggle to keep friends because in the end I lie to them constantly about everything because I think it will make everything better. You are the reason I can’t get along with anyone because I mess it up.

When you leave, it’s like I can breathe again, I can get on with life and actually smile. I can get through the days without even a hint of sadness. I don’t sit in my bed or chair constantly thinking of everyone else around me having fun and leaving me out. I am satisfied with life and don’t have to constantly need something to look forward to because I am happy.

Instead of thinking about the beauty in life, all I see is the grotesque parts. I see the worst in everyone; I constantly think they hate me. I don’t trust what they are saying to me and think that they just want to hurt me. You make me think about the different ways I could commit suicide without even trying. I want to be free and at this current time, that way seems the only way out.

At the moment, you haven’t left for 4 weeks and that’s the longest time I have ever had to deal with you in the past 2 years. It’s getting so difficult to hold on, I feel like each time I am getting deeper and deeper into the water and soon I will be smothered in it.

I know these feelings aren’t real; it’s just a chemical imbalance in my brain that’s making me think all these things.  They seem so real though. I still believe that I am wrong, that I should not exist, I am not worth existing. I am the weak link in a chain. I feel like the sickness in this world that everybody wants rid of.

I wish I could be normal, I wish that I didn’t have to feel this way.  I don’t want medication, I don’t want a diagnosis. It will become too real otherwise. I don’t want my family to think I am weak; I want them to believe I am normal and can do anything. I don’t want them to worry.

You depression, you take this away from me. You take my future from me, you take my past.  You are my present. I hope soon I will  get the help I need and you will be gone, I can’t wait. It’s the only hope I have.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

I have seen people write these and I wrote this a while back but never had the guts to post it. As you can tell, I am still here now even though I know how awful I felt. For anyone who feels this way now, you will come out of it and it will get better but I know at this time it seems impossible because that’s how I felt when I wrote this.

I have started a blog in the hope that this helps anyone who doesn’t understand depression and how it feels. I think it’s a very serious  mental illness that many people underestimate. Some people think we are being silly or exaggerating which is why I can see why a lot of people don’t want to admit that they are feeling this way. I am one of those people, I hate to say it but I struggle to talk to anyone about it because I feel like they would not believe me. I know that people like me are good at hiding depression, we fake smile around others and say we are ‘fine’ but we aren’t. I hope with this letter/ post I can start to help myself also by getting myself to be brave and tell the truth.