He Can Have My Heart if He Wants it

A Sketch of the Future

I was a night owl by nature.

Normally that wouldn't bug me, in fact I enjoyed the hell out of it. The fact that I stayed up till three in the a.m. (or later, but don't tell my mom) was joyous to me. Forget the early morning. Forget the, albeit pretty, sunrise. I loved the thrill and quiet of the night, when even the city around me was asleep, except for a few rebellious cars and civilians, young teens sneaking in and out of their unaware homes, or older ones confidently sauntering out, thumbs hooked in their jeans, freedom in their lungs. I'd plug in my headphones and be transported to a new world, with grotesque nightcore beats, or sweet russian lullabies, perhaps a few french serenades. But now, it felt more like a burden, a disability, sleep dancing away from me. I loved nighttime, but for some reason I didn't feel as if it loved me back at the moment. Usually the song types mentioned above soothed me, but I felt as if the night was too dry, too eerie, to subject myself to beautiful lyrics. I was a huge fan of nightcore, classical (in other languages), a bit of creepy, and the occasional dubstep, if I fell in love with the lyrics. And, of course, the ones mentioned before.

Currently, I was listening to none of those things. My older sister/friend Leila had sent me multiple songs for some book she was writing, with me as a character in it. I responded I'd listen to them later. While this was my usual response for her, I really didn't feel like listening to anything at the moment. She reluctantly agreed, and logged off to go back to working on some music video. I rolled my eyes, but a smile hit my lips. She was so creative, she made me feel lazy sometimes. However, she always supported my endeavors, constantly praising the few short stories I did put out there. I knew she'd stay my biggest fan for a long time, and make sure I kept doing my best, whether I thought I could or not.

Speaking of, it had been awhile since I had made anything. I had doodled a tad later in the afternoon, but it was nothing special. For weeks now I had been working on creating multiple OC's (original characters, for those of you who have not yet been sucked into that world), or redrawing older ones that needed a bit of more detail or color. However, the stress of school and my family and everything else was really hitting me. I loved my friends, and I loved my parents, but it was getting too overbearing. I felt as if everyone expected something from me; to get better grades in school, to work harder and quicker, to be prettier, to dress cuter, to be thinner and more attractive. Like there were a ton of standards I just couldn't live up to, for some odd reason. I had my loved ones telling me that I was talented, and gorgeous, and perfect, and totally amazing, and while those things cheered me up, I didn't always believe them myself. I felt alone, so alone sometimes. Like there wasn't anyone really there for me when I needed it, and if I ever reached out, I'd be seen as weak, a baby, a whiner who only thought of herself.

Shuddering, I pushed those thoughts away. I could go on all night, if I let myself, but I wouldn't. It was no use to put me in misery, rob me of sleep, especially when I had so much to do this morning. I felt more inspired than ever to doodle. It was my safe place, it made me feel happy, and, more importantly, it made me feel useful.

This year for Halloween we were doing Creepypasta, the horrifying stories of kids like us, or even adults, becoming the monsters we so feared. This year I was going to be Eyeless Jack, but with a twist. I currently had sharp medium-length green hair, which I thought would go perfect with a genderbend version of him. Leila, being an OCD freak, absolutely disagreed, but knowing I was stubborn "let" me go ahead with it anyways. I could almost imagine her twitching, irritated ticks caused by the realization that everything wasn't in order. It wasn't her fault, I know, but it still was annoying as hell. Maybe if I felt bad I'd write a story for the genderbend girl or something, so it'd be original, and she'd get off my back. Probably not, unless she drugged/bribed me with Dr. Pepper and toast with tons of butter and hot anime guys. Yes, you hear me right. Those are my weaknesses. Judge all you want, I'll just sit here and stuff myself while you blabber on miserably on my junk food habits. Let's see who feels good and who feels bad by the end of it; I guarantee the loser's stomach will be empty and mournful.