A/N: ~I blame this partially on sleep deprivation. This is reedited because when I posted it last night it made no sense… or possibly less sense…
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I'm trying to write but nothing's coming out. I've been attempting to write something for what seems like forever. My invisible muse left me along with my death, I think.
A blank page. Another try.
Flowing.
Again nothing.
"Fuck." I need to do this. I need to write something. Anything, just something to keep me going. I'm at my wits end. I want to tear my hair out. Why is everything falling apart? World shattering in little pieces. They hurt. Cutting skin. Blood trickling. So sweet. Metallic, shiny. Life running down my arm. It's warm. Maybe I'm just cold.
No.
I close my eyes and shake out the thought out of my head. I can't go there. Not again. I need to write. Keep my mind focused or at least try. I can't help it. I've been doing this a lot apparently… That's what I've been told.
"You're spacing Dana" "Hello? Anyone in there?" "I don't know." I honestly don't.
Short attention span. Easily distracted. Easily amused. Cover ups. All blatant cover ups. Most people accept them not wanting to push to far. They're scared… of me, I think.
I walk over to my dresser and just stare into the mirror.
"It's an armoire"
"no it's a dresser with a mirror"
"It was your great-grandmother's"
"It's still a dresser"
Nothing… I look hard but still see nothing. How in the world do they live like this? I'm here, I know I am. I can see my body when I look, but no reflection. This isn't real. It's my imagination I know it. I know what I look like. I can picture it; Pale, raccooned eyes. Sleep deprived? No just a lot of eye liner and mascara. Fall asleep? No just how it was applied. It works. Kinda flowy. Dark messy but still it flows. I should take a shower; I feel like I need one. I can't recall the last time I took one but it must have been some tie ago because my hair feels kind of greasy.
Maybe it would inspire me. Stories about the life of soap. It's a stretch. A bad stretch. I'm not that desperate. Not yet.
Take a deep breath. Calm down. It still hurts. Note to self; no more deep breaths. Little breaths. I need to take lots of little breaths, least till the pain goes away.
How is it that I'm not here? Everything is so different now. At least that's how it seems but I know it's not. Through the mirror, I am able to see what my world has become. I'm here and that’s it. I was forced to black out my windows and now my room's extremely dark aside from the table lamp. I can see through myself right down to dark hard wood floor. Black. Vortexes. Deep lost. My head is spinning. It's getting dark.
I can feel my senses heighten. It's quite. Axe. Tsunami. The scent of the gods. Arms wrap around my waist.
"Dana, Come back."
Blink. Back to reality. Deep breath. Fuck. The pain is still there and so are the arms; strong, comforting arms.
I don’t move. Not yet, it's not time. Glancing in the mirror, I am able to imagine my reflection and his reflection. I can't really explain it but I can almost feel Him smile. A dark, unsettling smile. The last expression I saw before it all changed. Gorgeous man nonetheless. I don't know why he is holding me. He seems so comfortable wrapped around me. Too relaxed.
"Why are you here?"
"I came to see you."
"Don't you ever knock?"
"You never answer"
"Common courtesy."
"We're not common."
Blink. "Don't say that"
"It's true. You're not common, I made you; gave you my life in order save yours."
"I didn't ask you to"
"Doesn't matter, you're one of us now. You'll never be the same again"
Blink. "Get out of my apartment."
"You're going to have to face it sooner or later"
"I said get out."
Unraveling and the warmth fades. Heavy steps carry to the door. Door opens. Door closes. I'm alone again. Cold again. I still smell the tsunami. Comforting. He'll be back. He has no choice. He never stays away. I wish he would.
I'm still trying to see myself. "We're not common." That's a lie. I'm lying. It's the truth. I begin to feel the strain behind my eyes. It hurts but no tears. Fuck. I hate when he is right. Blink.
Don’t go there. Not now. Think other thoughts. What to do? What to do? I really need to take a shower. It's been two days since I left my house. I need a shower. Look common on the outside maybe for a little while.
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