When Finally Set Free

Pretend

I wake with a start due to my ridiculously loud, panic inducing alarm. I had to get said alarm because even the most annoying of iPhone alarms just weren't cutting it these days. If not for the prehistoric alarm clock I would gladly spend 15 hours out of my precious 24 hours a day in a coma like sleep . That just won't do though, not with things to do and people to please. 

I get a taste of my disgusting breath as I yawn-stretch  and gag a little. I tend to lack in my nighttime teeth brushing because it will go unnoticed as long as I do it in the morning. Thats sort of my bad habit... only taking care of myself when I know that people will notice when I don't. 

I take a swig of water and  pull back the covers to be greeted by the chill of morning. Getting out of bed I pull on sweats from last night and a hoodie and shuffle to the kitchen for coffee and a slice of toast. Mom must be gone already its to quiet for someone to still be here. So I saunter to the back porch for a cigarette trying to avoid spilling the massive cup of coffee on my way. 

As I light my cigarette im thinking about how its the first day of sophomore year and notice that the overwhelming excitement I used to feel for first days has lessened to a pin prick and I start to feel sad. I don't get how I turned into this. I used to love every day and feel so present and alive. Now everyday feels like a routine and a shitty depressing one at that. Wake up, fight with your thoughts all day, beg for sleep to come and repeat. The days just tick by and I know that with every nights sleep I get closer and closer to my very last sleep. I know Im not supposed to feel this way when my life just technically began. Im really starting to wish I was still a christian its easier when you believe in something, but I currently can't even believe in myself so how in the actual fuck am I supposed to believe in fiction. 

Before I know it my morning ponder has me smoking filter so I throw my butt in the ashtray and head back to my room to get ready. I take my hair out of the braid I put it in last night after my shower and rake my fingers through it. When I look into the mirror i sort of wanna rip it off the fucking wall, throw it on the ground, and stomp on it till the shards become dust. I hate my reflection and not because i'm not beautiful, not to sound like a jackass but I have no complaints with my complexion or face shape or things that most girls have a problem with. My hate comes from my face betraying my emotions so easily. I look in the mirror and see someone who's burning up inside and id rather not wear my heart crushed up and painted all over my god damned face but I have yet to find a way to hide the contempt for myself. I have an Eeyore like quality about me that even a big toothy grin can't hide. Even when i'm genuinely happy It tends to look as though I have a lace curtain drawn around me in attempt to hide the shotgun in my mouth. Im currently waiting for the shells to load the gun so I can blow a hole right through the material.

I try to put the disdain at the back of my head  for the moment and throw my black hair up into a messy bun. I really have to throw my ass in gear because I still have to pick Jillian up. I put on some baggy blue jeans, a white tank top and pull on a black zip up hoodie.Grabbing my back pack, keys and smokes I head out the door. When I get in my shitty 98 civic I take one deep shaky breath and turn the key in the ignition. Like some invisible force is trying to rub it in my face, the first song that comes blaring out my speakers is fake happy by Paramore. I turn it up a little louder, reverse out of my driveway and am off to another day of playing pretend.

Note: I hope you experience  reading this isn't to confusing I haven't tried to write something in a really long time. Still trying to figure it out if im being honest.