Freak Love (Mister Morgue)

Time To Scare People

*Dream*

Black.

It's all black, the world and everything inside.

The world is a black hole, that will, eventually, suck you right up.

Swirls of light and dark circled over the hollow pit of nothingness.

Red.

The color of blood.

Something that humans have inside of their hungry little bodies.

Aggressive flashes of passion scattered through my mind, bumping into every corner of rejection.

Blue.

All of the tears you cry.

Every night you relive your own death, drowning in your own pity.

The words spoken exploded into various purposes of failure, the sum of being lost.

White.

So basic and plain, not of my kind.

I feel great sorrow for this sad shade of light, as I lift up the spirits that follow me.

Fly until you reach the sky, or else you will fall deep down into the pits of hell.

*Dream ends*

I woke up to the alarming sound of my phone ringing on the table next to my bed. I tried to reach over lazily and grab it with my hand, to just end up hitting my hand on the table. I sighed and sat up, grabbing the phone and taking it in my hands. I squinted from the brightness of the screen, and sniffled.

After my eyes ajusted to the light, I saw the time and date, 10:28 AM on a Saturday, and an unknown number on the screen.

"Miss Mercy." I answered groggily, using my own name as a greeting.

"Um, is this Mercy?" The muffled voice of a boy asked.

I rolled my eyes and said, "Uh, yeah. I just said that."

I paused and listened for a response, getting nothing in reply. I didn't hear anything on the other line at all, just silence.

"Who is this?" I asked, aware of the fact that this is probably a trick.

I heard laughing in the backround and muffled voices of teenagers making snide comments. I emmidietly knew that this was another prank phone call from those 'normal' teenagers who won't leave me alone.

I sighed and pulled the phone from my ear, before anything else was said and hit the 'End' button.

I tossed my phone on my black pillow and rubbed my forehead, my headache is killing me. I turned in the bed, and my legs hung off the side, just before I stood up and yawned.

I stretched my arms out, and then rubbed my eyes, taking small, unsteady steps towards my bathroom. I kicked open the bathroom door and lugged up to the mirror.

I studied my face, as I do every morning after I wake up. My stringy, black hair partly covered my gray eyes, my pale cheeks were puffy and pink, and the bags under my eyes were darker than the sun.

I had no problem with the way I looked, whatsoever. I am not insecure, I just don't think I'm the dictionary version of 'pretty'. A girl known as a 'freak' would never be labled as 'pretty' to any 'normal' person. That's just it, I don't want normal people to like me. I've never fit in with those kinds of people, and I'm glad. I don't need to know their ordinary veiws on life or what they think when they look at me. I am a freak, and nothing is going to change that. Not the disgusted looks they give me, not the harassment, not the crying children. Nothing will change the way I am, because I was meant to be this way.

Deal with it.

I sighed and grabbed the bottom of my shirt, lifting it over my head and tossing it on the black tile floor behind me. I unzipped the black jeans I slept in and kicked them over by my shirt. Bending down and rolling off my black socks, I tossed them into the dirty clothes basket a few feet away. I unhooked my bra in the back and slid off my undies, tossing them into the hamper, also.

I walked to my shower and brushed the black curtain out of the way, reaching for the nozzle and turning it on hot with my hand. I felt the water to see if it was hot enough, and then stepped in.

*skipping the shower*

Reaching out, I grabbed the nozzle and turned the water off. I squeezed the water out of my hair and combed it with my fingers. I pushed the curtain aside, stepped out, and grabbed the black towel that was resting on a hook, and wrapped it around my body.

I ignored the sound of my wet feet slapping on the floor, as I walked out of the bathroom and back to my bed. I quickly dried my body, up and down, and tossed the towel on the bed behind me. I walked to the dresser in the corner of my room and pulled open the second drawer, shuffling through the clothes.

I pulled out a pair of ripped jeans and a black long sleeved shirt with a white skulls on it, throwing them over my shoulder and closing the drawer. I opened the fourth drawer and pulled out a pair of black undergarments, and quickly slipped them on. I turned around and kicked the drawer shut with my foot, and continued walking back to my bed.

I squeezed into the skin tight jeans and threw on my shirt, just as I walked to the corner with all of my shoes. I examined all of the pairs, finally deciding on my tall black boots, and leaning over to grab them. I sat down on the black carpet and slipped them on my feet, getting slightly aggravated when I had to loop the lace through the tenth hole.

I finally finished tieing them and stood up, combing my fingers through my hair. I walked over to my bed and grabbed my phone off of my pillow and put it in my back pocket. I eyed the small table next to the bed and pulled open the only drawer. I fumbled around a little bit until I found Stripe's leash. It was really a rope, but it can be used as a leash. I pulled it out of the drawer and held it in my hand, closing the drawer in the process.

Stripe is my pet tiger, and the most important part of my life. I've had him ever since I moved out of my mother's house a few years ago. He's pretty much everything to me, I do everything for him. He's also how I make money, all of the tricks I do with him, I perform on the streets. Some people think it's insane, but some people just love the danger. I'm here for those who love me, not hate me.

My family, on the other hand, despise what I do. They're the kind of people who just pretend that nothing is wrong, when they obviously think I'm crazy. It gets on my nerves at family gatherings, holidays, and any other time when I have to see them. I know I'm my own person and I don't HAVE to see them, but they're my family and I love them, even though they hate what I do. I can deal with it, I only see them once every month or so, it's not a big deal.

They're all so far away, too, I don't have the patience to go visit all the time. I'm here in Venice, they're all the way in Florida, and flights are a pain. I hate to be traveling all the way there, just to get critisized by a bunch of hypocrites.

I stepped out of my room, closing the door behind me and started to walk down the hall. I smiled a little when I heard loud banging coming from the living room. Stripe is always excited to see me, he loves me as much as I love him.

I creeped around the corner and into the living room, just to get tackled by him. I fell to the floor and laughed, all I saw was black and white fur brushing over my face. A big wet tongue licked me, right before he bit the sleeve of my shirt, pulling me right up.

I smiled and brushed myself off, and then I looked down at the rope in my hand.

"Happy to see me, huh?" I joked, finding the hook on his collar and tieing the rope to it.

I twisted the rope in my hand and gently pulled him along with me, as I walked over to the front door and spotted the large bag resting against the wall.

I picked it up and slung it over my back, seeing my keys on the hook, grabbing them, and slipping them into my pocket. I twisted the handle of the door, letting Stripe walk out first. I glanced back at the inside of my house one more time, before turning and walking out of the door and into the world.

Time to scare people.