I walked outside the sun's bright lights beamed into my eyes like daggers. I hated it. No, I hated the fact that I was so used to the lights of the hospital. I wasn't sick or mentally insane, I was just visiting my grandmother who was sick. She's been sick for a long time but now things just got worst. She has dementia and was recently diagnosed to have Parkinson's disease. It's hard to find an escape away from it all, so as I hide my eyes from the sun, I cower away to a tree with the most shade. I reach into my old dirty green bag and pull out my worn journal, turn to a new page, date it and start writing.
March 30th, 2014
Grandma had another moment today. She forgot who I was again. It hurts to think about it and I feel like my heart is breaking every time she asks who I am. I miss my strong, independent, and fearless grandma. Grandma will you ever come back to me and embrace me with your love again?
I had to stop writing I felt like something inside me was breaking. I wanted to cry, but I already cried so much the tears wouldn't come. Why was this happening? Even crying was becoming a challenge. Why? I decided to call my mom, so she could come pick me up. She'd be here in ten minutes. I packed my journal inside my bag and waited in the lobby of the hospital. I hated hospitals. It was always cold and the air was always over polluted with the smells of varies disinfectants. The decor itself was horrible. Everything was white like it was trying to ensure cleanliness and purity. My mom asked why I always came if I hated it, but I couldn't imagine abandoning my grandma in the hospital. As if life was planned out mom showed up exactly ten minutes after I called her.
When we arrived at home, I quickly ran to my room. I flopped down on my bed and grabbed my headphones and iPod and let the sounds of VIXX to cloud my mind. One day after I graduate college, I plan to move to South Korea and become an English teacher. So, until then I'll just do what I always do. I reach inside my bag and start writing on a new page.
March 30th, 2014
I close my eyes and let the songs lyrics sway me like a sweet lullaby. I breath realizing there's nothing to inhale. I'm scared. My mind screams ¨Open your eyes!¨ MY heart screams ¨Let the darkness consume you! NO more hurting. Isn't that what you crave?¨ I nod. Then the song stops. The oxygen is back. I open my eyes. Then the bloody blade falls.
I close my journal. Then walk across the room, where I grab the blade from my dresser. I inhale deeply, then cut the tender skin on on my wrist. I cut for a few seconds, then when I exhale the cutting stops. The voices are gone. The blade falls from my hand and I began to cry. My cries can never go higher than a whisper. I won't allow them to! I have to oppress all my feelings so I won't become a burden. I wipe away the salty tears that stain my face and pick up the blade. I walk to the bathroom, wash the blade off, and return it to it's usual spot on my dresser. I crawl into bed and put my headphones in and allow my mind to escape this reality.
I awake sweaty and scared. What was that dream about? Why is it fading away so quickly? Why can't I remember after I wake up? Why is the only thing left from the dream the touch of a hand? I shake the thoughts from my head and look at the clock beside my bed. It's flashing six forty five AM. Damn thing! It never wakes me up on time. I over slept fifteen minutes. I push the covers off me, not that I remember pulling them over me. Mom must have came into my room when I was sleeping last night and covered me up, when she realized I hadn't come down for dinner. I yank the headphones out of my ears and walk down the hall to the bathroom. I shower for about ten minutes. Then I get out, brush my teeth, and wash my face. I didn't bother fixing my hair or applying makeup because it'll just get messy, since it's the summer. I head back to my room, open my closet and grab a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeved button up shirt. I grab my house keys, iPod, and backpack and walk out the house. I didn't bother eating breakfast, and since my mom worked the morning shift she wasn't home to complain. I check the time on my iPod, it's six minutes past seven and the school bus will be pulling up in four minutes. It was a two minute walk to my bus stop in front of an old sycamore tree. When I got there everyone was in their own respective group of friends. My best friend May spotted me instantly and waved me towards her.
¨Hey May lovely summer day we're having isn't it?¨, I said half joking.
¨Cut the crap! You know I hate summer. All those stupid bugs swarming around everywhere is annoying the hell out of me. Anyways, what took you so long to get here?¨
¨I overslept. My crappy alarm clock didn't even go off.¨
¨Well next time be here a little bit early. I hate standing out here with all these damn barbies.¨
May and I have been best friends since first grade. She knows everything about me. She knows about the cutting, the family problems, and all my fears. She doesn't have many of her own though. She lives in a huge house with both her parents, has her own car she drives only on the weekends since rides the bus on the weekdays, so I won't be lonely. She sees right through me every time I tell her I'll be fine by myself. She never pries into my personal life unless absolutely necessary.
When the bus arrived two minutes later May and I walk up the few stairs and went straight to the back to our usual seats and sat. May already had her headphones in blocking out the useless conversations of the teenagers sitting in front of us. I did the same. I let the headphones fill my mind with thoughts of my dream. I pull my journal out of my bad and date a new page.
March 31st, 2014
I had another nightmare. I don't remember if I died or not, but I can still feel the touch of the hand on my body. The places where it touched me ache and my cuts hurt worse when the hand touched them. Who is this person? Will we ever meet? Before I can ask who they are, I'm awake sweaty and scared. How does this person get into my dreams? What does this person know about me?
I close my journal and put it back into my bag. I glance over at May she's asleep, she probably didn't get much sleep last night since it was Sunday. She most likely stayed up all night doing homework. I look out the window watching the trees, cars, and houses zoom past me. This will be my view on this fifteen minute bus ride to school.