Twenty-Three: Chills

Twenty-Three: Chills

I think of standing up and just running down the hill. Instead, I turn back expecting to find my name caller… all I see are the protective acacia trees I hugged when I was a little girl. Continue reading “Twenty-Three: Chills”

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Twenty-three: Jane

Twenty-three: Jane

People look so talkative and joyful; for fuck’s sake it is just 8 a.m. on a Tuesday. I run to my classroom, I am wearing my new heels (Yeah, I can really feel them), I say hi to my supervisor and immediately twist my left ankle. It hurts but I just smile and say I am fine. He, however, wants to make sure I am okay and asks me if I need him to call the high-school nurse.  After assuring him I am just fine I put my shoe my back on, collect my self-esteem from the shiny high-school floors and proudly walk away. Continue reading “Twenty-three: Jane”

Twenty-three: Last day

Twenty-three: Last day

I try to wake up, the silence is high. My room is empty, try to actually wake up, I can’t. Sweat. My arms are heavy, as if I was not in my own body, watching the scene from the outside. Small, thin, delicate, soft innocent fingers move, onerous work. I fall in the dark world again, intricate loophole. Monsters of delicacy try to grasp my most hidden thoughts. I open the window, fresh air in my sleepy hair, I jump. I don’t fall. Breathing becomes a conscious work, harder every second that comes, and goes, where has time gone? I scream. Sweating in my warm bed, I open my eyes and think it happened again. Continue reading “Twenty-three: Last day”

Twenty-three: Numb Cactus

Twenty-three: Numb Cactus

I want to scream at everything I do not like. Feel the silence, the loneliness. And I do not know how, I know I will find happiness in being empty and full at the very same time, at the very same intense second.

It was a meaningless Tuesday, 4:00 pm. I found myself staring at a lifeless, dry being. I touched it, and my little finger started bleeding. I sucked it hard and the irony flavour of my blood ran through my mouth. I have always been afraid of this red thick liquid inside us. However, irrationally, I have an unusual, dangerous attraction to it. It blocks all of my senses. Fucking cactus. I do not know why the hell I have one in my room. As in every question I asked myself, I did not have an answer. Continue reading “Twenty-three: Numb Cactus”