Nocturne

May 2, 2012
When the house is dark and dead, and nears the time for bed, I put on Chopin's Nocturnes.

I smother the volume to a ghostly hum, so low that I can only hear it if I stop breathing. Wrapped in heat and trapped in sheets I listen to the black swimming across my comforter, and curl my toes as it fades to a dull hiss that throws me and bashes me to sleep.

When its time for pledge, I sit on edge and hold my hand only slightly beneath my greatest bane. Just low enough to avoid the vicious beating, because if it sees me I will surely lose my mind. The school can't breathe today. Something about the trees in this place leeches color from the world, relieving the sky of any youthful blush or glow it once may have boasted.

When comes the time to eat, I gladly stay my feet and listen to my innards as they whisper calming things to my throat. I cannot allow myself to eat now, I need to retain my sickening pale complexion so that everyone knows I'm dead.





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