(no subject)

[mod_kyloren_awakening]

I've been having dreams.

Nightmares, I guess. Most of the time, anyway. I wake up, and I'm crying--like I'm some sort of kid. My face is pressed in the pillow and I'm crying and I'm waiting. Waiting to die, I think. Waiting for him to kill me.

Other times, I wake, and I'm screaming, except it's all in my head. It's muffled there, like there are pieces of me that aren't open yet. Like I'm a big, empty house with too many doors that lock. It frightens me, when I think about that too much--when I think about what could be hiding behind those doors. So I try to make myself think about it as much as I can stomach. It's better to be afraid of something you know than something you can't see coming. Right? I think that's right.

I want to fight it. I want to fight my own brain. I want to rip it apart and put it back together and be normal--but then when I think that, I don't want it at all, because he loved me for not being normal. He loved that I surprised him. That I frightened him. That I threw myself away for him.

I wish I knew who he was. If I did, I don't think I'd feel so much like crying. Like some kid. Weak. Stupid and weak; it makes me want to fight.

Instead, I will keep saving whatever money I can. She bought me coffee and she didn't have to. I want to do that too. Because it felt nice. Maybe it'll feel nice on the other side. I just want to feel nice sometimes.

Journaling is stupid.



Siri

If we ran away, where is the first place we would go?



Amir

I hate the weekends.

School is stupid because everyone there is stupid, but I like watching you. I like the way you shape words. I like your eyelashes. I like knowing you hate them. People, I mean. The people who pretend to like you. No one really does, you know. I'm the only one.

I'm trying to be nice to people I meet. I think I want to be nice sometimes. Other times, I don't. Other times, I can't stand to be near anyone. Except Siri. Siri is better than you, objectively. She's better than me, too. She's good. We're not.

I want to consume you, I think. Is that weird? I don't mean cannibalism. That would be weird. I mean-- I don't know. I just want it. I want to protect you. I want to strike you, or touch your eyelashes. I like them, remember. I don't even know why.

I moved something with my mind, thinking of you. I probably hallucinated it. The Cleavers say I'm crazy, when they think I can't hear them. They're probably right. Usually I ignore them, but it's harder when I don't have school to go to. There aren't even any idiots trying to fight with me in this neighborhood. Not anymore. I was too strong for them--I need to be more careful to pull my punches next time.

If I could read your mind, would you let me?

I hate the weekends.

Comments

[huxter]

Let's try it.

[mod_kyloren_awakening]

Now?

[huxter]

I'm alone.

[mod_kyloren_awakening]

Okay.