Best Blogger Tips

Thursday, November 19, 2015

"It's All In Your Head"

I'm in the mood to type up a short story. Based off of my current feelings and possibly Twinkle's Story/TEO (which it is). Not in the mood for any criticism, I've been on writer's block for a few weeks and I'm tired. Yes, I know I put no actual character names in this short story. Enjoy!~ 

"Do you see them?" he asked her under his breath. They were swarming in circles above both their heads, their gloomy colored skin zooming past his eyes in a blur. 

The girl looked in the direction he had his face turned to. The blades of the ceiling fan whirred past. She looked down from the ceiling and faced him. From the corner of her eye, she saw him staring intently at the ceiling above. "No, I don't see them," she replied and then placed her hand on top of his. He dug his nails into the blanket as she did that. 

With his other hand, he pointed his index finger in the direction of the ceiling. "How can you not see them? They're right there."

She was just staring up at the ceiling with a blank stare. "There's nothing there, it's all in your head."  

The boy suddenly went off the bed. With his back to her, he said monotonously, "That's what they all say. That's what they all want me to believe," he clenched his fists at his sides, "Don't tell me you've stooped down to their level." He faced her, his anxious look replaced by frustration. He pointed at her, then in the direction of the ceiling fan again. "The demons are right there. You see them, don't you?"

The girl stared at the ceiling. She looked down into her lap and whispered, "No, I just can't see the demons. They're all just in your head. You had a ton more traumatic past experiences than me, you know?"

He glared at her. "You still think I'm insane. After all our weeks living here, you still think I'm insane. Even after I killed the bastard, you still think I'm insane. I knew you never fully trusted me."

Stuttering, she said, "N-No, I don't mean it like that. It could be..."

"What? My memories? When I was possessed by that bastard I killed right in front of you? Or is it that I'm that damn word? Different?"

"Being different isn't a bad thing," she whispered. 

Nearly yelling, he said, "I've always been different, and it's never been a good thing. Not even once so don't give me your sympathy crap."

The girl went off the bed. Staring right into the center of his eyes, she replied, "I might haven't been through the terrors you've been through, but don't you dare tell me that I don't know what it feels like to be different."

He rolled his eyes. "And you're completely avoiding the point again."

"Then stop bringing it up," she bluntly said back.

Suddenly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don't get it. It's not all in my head. The demons are right there, out in the open. They've escaped my head ever since I killed that damn bastard. But I'm the only one who has acknowledged their existence. You and all of them are blind to what's right in front of you. You are my flame counterpart and the only person I give a damn about, but there will always be things that separate us. You'll never be able to fully understand."

Without waiting for her to say something, he went on. "The demons aren't in my head anymore, but that doesn't mean my head isn't contaminated. Maybe that's how I can see them, maybe it isn't. My thoughts will always be consumed by death. Not just because of what I did in the past, not just that. To tell you the truth, I want death to consume me. I don't care if we're finally out of that hell," he squeezed her shoulder, "those depressing suicidal thoughts never leave. No matter where you go, they will always follow you around. Just like the demons, my demons."

The girl could only reply by saying, "You are so broken. So, so broken."

He grinned at her. "That's right, I'm broken in every way possible. But then again, aren't we all?"

Yeah.. I'll end it there. Not explaining anything about what you just read. Let it be suspicious.. but pretty obvious too. 

Goodbye. <3

~ Cutepups 

No comments:

Post a Comment