Burgundy

Numinous I

Firstly this is the beginning of my butterfly adventure.. I'm an introvert and posting this is giving me alarmingly high anxiety. But I think its time I crawl out of my well dug hole and share the beauty of writing, so here I am. This chapter took me over 2 months only due to laziness and editing but I wholeheartedly promise I will not let you loves wait that long. Now here is my warning... While writing this I had a fascination with really big words and expanding my vocabulary. So I promise if some of these words don't flow ignore them they will be edited soon once I edit this chapter sometime this week. Leading onto that please nicely let me know if it doesn't sound right. Enjoy my mind :) 

Tattoos cascade my skin like waterfalls tumbling down, each needle each needless visit. You know they say it becomes an addiction, well this then must be my heroin. The drug like needle seeping in dowsing my skin with thick ink taking me to a euphoria of black and crimson. My world slows down and my pulse picks up with each puncture, leaving me as breathless as ever watching the intricate line swirl around my wrist with delicate precision. Each line represents a different story, a different hell, and a different escape. "Aim we're done here" Luca smiled wiping down my left wrist, I nodded with my usual emotionless façade. Walking towards the front of my new found home, a grungy tattoo shop that smells of alcohol and metal. I stood in the front handing Luca my shredded hundred dollar bill leaving the small room with a loud bang of the door. My life's a mess and it's as easy as dropping a pen to say that out loud, my story seems like a road in bloodshed burgundy, each drop painted a picture.

You know they say high school gets easier. That you're only a mindless soul roaming the halls of bland bodies and that the torturous looks stop and the incessant chatter about you dissipates. But it truly never does. I'm a dead body that walks the halls no emotions, no feelings just a deep numbing sensation with each step down the haunting corridors. I roam around with no destination in mind but a mind full of dark thoughts while staring forward to the animalistic population in front of me.

My school isn't considered one of the most stereotypical places on earth but you have the accumulation of meat-head idiots and the merciless prissy queens who have no boundaries on how brainless they can really be. But then you have me, I'm a dark mind in an incandescent world.

I trudge to my nearest class keeping my toneless gaze to the trek ahead of me, I don't have acquaintances. I have glares and snarky comments about my outfit of the day, but it's always the same. Pulling my sleeves down, I keep my eyes forward stepping through the rotted doorway of Mr. Dean's unorganized unimportant English class. "Good afternoon class" he spoke all too cheery, I could feel my resolve slowly wither and my patience spread thin. I've always locked the door to my dreaded misery I begin to fathom that is my life, but all too well I've grown sick to the happiness of others I've grown envious. "So students today... well today were going to begin our novel of the year, I do this every year and each time it's better and better so we'll see" he smiled passing out withered copies of a random book he felt the need to bore my mind with. The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.

"Now, I'm going to go down my roster and search for lucky victims" he mused keeping minimal contact to our faces but at the torn sheet outstretched in his hands, "soo Leonardo Valentin... Would you like to start us off with the first paragraph" he smiled staring toward the boy in the back. Now if I'm being veracious he wasn't foul but quite heavenly looking, he had ebony streaked hair that framed his milk porcelain face. His lips were a vivid shade of rose, contrasting to his darkly shaded eyebrows, although his eyes were what intrigued me most he had what our science teacher once pointed to be Heterochromia iridum. Green, the green in his eyes portrayed the deepest jungles of exploding jade, the shade darkening toward the pitch black pupil with tendrils of blue intertwining it's ocean through the thickly crowed agony of chromatic leaves. But even with one eye being such an intense emerald the calming blue enticed you further more into his suave personality, he shifted slowly in his seat while staring forward. Blue, the blue depicted the deepest of seas over stretching the vast coastal lines of the native waters, the blue was like staring into an ablaze of sapphire. Each eye showing more than just a bored expression.