Explaining How I Feel

January 30, 2018
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I am finally alive and feeling good and then all of a sudden, things fall from the sky. Not just things, my world, falls from the sky. Plummeting, wind snatching trees and ground along with them. Trees had surrounded me. They were there to keep me safe, protect me. Now the wind steals them and the ground from under my feet. I am plummeting even faster than my world ever was. The wind doesn't whisper sweetly in my ears anymore. It screams and it screeches. It grabs at my hair, strand by strand, with its cold fingers. It pulls at it.


It pulls at it so hard that it my sanity and happiness start to come out of the top of my head and float of into a black space. When I look up I see my glowing, white, pure sanity next to my glory of a gas of happiness floating just above where my 14 year old fingers can reach. Just out of my reach.


Maybe if I grew out my nails I could snag them back. In order to grow out my nails, I would have to stop chewing them.


Maybe if I stopped chewing on my nails, my teeth wouldn't be jagged rough.


Maybe if my teeth weren't jagged and rough I would care about them more and want to smile.


Maybe if I cared about my teeth more and wanted to smile, I would have confidence.


Maybe if I had confidence I could reach the bar teachers and parents set for me.


Maybe if I had long nails I could reach that bar.


Then and there, the carpet of my bedroom floor starts to rip apart. Small strands of polyester start to fall into a dark space below me. More and more strands fall and the ground are unraveling at a speed so fast but still so slow that I see every little thing that is happening. Pieces beneath my legs start to fall and my legs drop as gravity pulls at my socks and ankles. I resist and pull back. My heart tells me to keep fighting and my mind is telling me you’re just tired. Give in. It’s not worth the fight.


Eventually. My heart gives up too.


This dark space below my carpet is my worst nightmare. There are pieces of trees and leaves and dirt and hair and hope scattered and littered all over the black floor. I give into my mind and I sit. But I want to fight and stand. The floor is cold. But there is no energy left in me, I am drained. I just sit. I sit and stare into the darkness. Good memories of the past prance through my head while bad memories of my past storm through with knives and hammers that dent and slam and cut and bruise. Then, the memories shut off. Just as if a TV was unplugged. A blue light infiltrates the dark and a sound pierces my ears.


As my eyes become wide, I can see that the blue light displays 5:00 AM. And the ear piercing sounds come from the blue light. Time for the show. The show called My Life.


Curtains drawn back now. Peers shuffling from class to class. My bad eyes look through my glasses and blurs of miserable faces become clear. I look at them. They do not look back.


I stay on my path. People greet me as I walk through the door to Hell, also known as Period 1, Block 5. Plastering a smile to my less than average face as I am greeted with tired hello’s and drained waves of hands with droopy smiles and bleak eyes.


School is over. Hell is behind me. Its just me now. Here on the road walking home. Alone.


Then, pebbles start to shake and ground begins to crack. Wind begins to blow and leaves are stolen. Trees begin to fly away snatching the ground with them. My hair begins to blow around my face, making it hard to see. Cold fingers grasp at the strands of my hair.






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