Tuesday, June 29th, 2010 at
4:05 am
My messenger bag hit against the back of my knees like it always did. My legs are numb to the feeling now, or maybe I just don’t care about the pain anymore. I don’t really care about anything anymore, do I? I could already hear Veronicas` rant about me needing to enjoy life. But, how could you enjoy something you never truly had? Since, the day of my birth almost fifteen years ago I was different. A redhead among a sea of black and blond. Instead of playing dolls with other little girls I just sat and watched as other lives were lived. A little morbid, yes. But, my thoughts always seem to be that way. Disrespecting my worth, if I even have worth in this world. But, I’ve always been called worthless. I think it all started that one day with my father. That’s when the spiral began.
“Demi!” yelled the dark headed girl at the door.
“Hello, Veronica.” I greeted her, giving a curt nod.
Her house was much bigger then mine, but she did live on the rich side of the state. When, we were small children she lived in Crown City, Ohio. I remember the big field we ran in, and going to the top of the hill even though we were told not to. We still had a cemetery near her house though. The darkness within me feeds on the sadness that lies within them. Why was I born with darkness within me? That why I had trouble sleeping at night. The dreams filled with death and blood were becoming too much for me, because I began seeing myself killing those I care dearly about. Their blood stained my Scythe, and I just laughed. I woke up in terror of what I did. I can feel my darkness slowly growing stronger. Soon I will be a mere shell to it. It’s host if you will, a vessel for its essence. I’ll be stripped of my mortality. Doomed to live a never ending life. I do not fear death, I fear living. For life has never been a good friend to me.
I felt around the inside of the pocket of my American Army jacket that was my mothers during the Golf War. My fingers gripped around the rectangular box. We must be fools if we think this is the answer to our problems. It’s an escape. So, numb and intoxicated our minds can’t process the world around us. I could smell the nicotine already. I hate the smell it reminds me of being beaten and told I was a worthless good for nothing. The cold water rushing over my head from one of the many ice baths I took as a child. I thought I was going back…. never mind It’s not important, not anymore. I could hear the distant snapping of fingers. The yells of an ignored girl trying to gain the attention of her spaced out friend.
“Demi! Hello! Are you alive?” she yelled waving her arms frantically.
“I am fine. Shall we go to the tree house?” I replied, calmly.
She began to walk towards the back door leading to the large yard with an oak tree in the center of it.
