Watch As My World Falls Apart [1]

So, fuck.

I haven't updated in over two months. Also, this story is short, unedited, and overall bad.

I'll just take the time to explain, right now. I'd like for you to read it, please.

To be honest, I only posted this story in this condition to show my 'fans' that I am still writing. That I'm alive and all that shit.

First of all; I realize that this story is rough. A lot of words do not make sense, the word flow is awful, and it is too abrupt. I personally can't stand anything I write nowadays--thanks to something I call writer's low.

I seem to get this sickness a lot. It drains all motivation, want, and reason to write.

On top of that...writer's block.

Second, lack of time. I am a senior in high school with a asinine desire to be free and get the hell out of the house. Piece the rest together.

Third, I will most likely edit this a whole lot. So in the remaining chapters (ahaahashha, they probably won't be out for a couple of months), if I change something...don't blame me.

I've published this because I needed to get something--anything--published onto this site before New Year's.

(PS; I'm aiming for this story to be somewhere around five chapters, give or take. This story will most likely rush right into events. I've never written a story like that; but there's a first for everything. Also, this story will change points of view during most chapters.)

So here's my rough draft of a violent story full of teenage drama, drugs, depression, and death.

My heart imploded as our eyes met. Deep down, I knew Tackett’s did too.

When a lack of time contrasts against avoidance and transforms want into desperation, all details you once subconsciously fathomed stand out.

I could not only see myself in the blackness of his soul; I also saw what he had become.

Those soft brown eyes that once filled the room with comfort and security now were nothing but vacuous and coercing.

I could not tell if the comfort still remained. If it still lived—existed at all—even in a paper-thin ring around the tenebrous eyes that were locked on mine. Or had the black completely obliterated the comfort?

He smiled at me. A smile indubitably forced. A smile of his that I had never seen.

Closed. His mouth was closed, with lips constraining to reach for the sky.

Two months ago, that smile would have been extemporaneous. It would have shown the boy’s perfectly aligned teeth. But those teeth now were deteriorating more and more with every cigarette the boy inhaled.

I knew he didn’t want to be here. I knew exactly what he wanted to be doing right now. Although I wasn’t sure which sickened me more.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and I watched as the nicotine unraveled from underneath of his fingernails and into his ebony-colored locks.

The boy’s hair didn’t shine in the afternoon sunlight like it used to. It was black now; just as his eyes were.

I remember when both his hair and his eyes were a rich caramel.

The atmosphere surrounding the three of us was stark and silent; the smell of nicotine and a decaying future clouding over us in a translucent haze, choking Tackett and myself.

I wanted to run; abscond. Away from my problems and fears. Away from the fucked up version of my former friend.

I wanted to scream; penetrate the loudest silence I had ever heard. Hear my voice and only my voice rather than the mockery this abhorrent silence spat out.