Terror. Wide awake in the dead of the night, listening to the slow ticking of the clock and her occasional little chime, keeping the wide eyed owl company, both lost in the gaze of the other, unwilling to back down or look away, hypnotized by the unwavering stare of the other. The night is still rather young, dawn as far away as ever and the moon enjoying her time of freedom, gliding across the sky on her chariot of clouds, her dress of twinkling stars trailing behind her. The roof is cold, cold as the empty bed. The blade is cold, cold as the slowly beating heart, almost nonexistent. The fear is pressing, suffocating, the clawed hands harder to pull away from in the dead of the night, sinking into my flesh and drawing blood, small streams running down my body. Dread filling my gut, leaving me gasping and panting for air, choking on my own tears and saliva, begging for a breath of fresh air. My eyes fly open and its all a dream, I convince myself, wincing at the sting on my throat and in my ribs.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts
RandomA collection of thoughts running in the head of a depressed and bored teen. Random ideas and glimpses into the inner workings of such a mind. The hidden and unspoken words of sorrow, pain, curiosity and fantasy. Funny ideas to be played with later...
