In time

Writers note: I literally can't write.

"Dreams are forgotten because we are afraid to see our future."

-

I never really realized how fast time went by, I never liked admitting it. Knowing time is going fast, death awakens my soul. My lifeless drained soul.

"You know, when you're asleep... We don't really have worries. But even though my life is sad and worthles, I can't sleep. It's been at least a rough 28 hours since I've last slept. Since then, I couldn't stop thinking." I finally took a breath and stopped talking.

"You know Natalie, you should be taking your vitamins, meds, and you should be eating. When was the last time you had ate? You look so frail and sick oh and of course too thin." Her eyes were getting wider as she spoke.

"Dr. Mindiola, that's the point. Not eating, to be pretty. I look sick? Quit drugging me with your shit so crap called "help". I got up and left her office, she was still writing down notes.

-

I got home, set my keys on the marble counter top in the kitchen.

"Mum, do we have any water?" I shouted to be sure she'd hear me.

As I waited for her reply, I heard nothing. "Mother? Are you here?" I decided to walk up the stairs.

"Natalie dear, come here please." My mums voice was like an angles, sweet and innocent.

I got up the stairs and went to the second door, which was my bedroom. I stepped into the door frame. She had been tearing down my posters, digging in my drawers, looking in my closet. My room was distroyed. Just like everyone, she was standing there in front of me with her back toward me. Her hair was shining it the sun, the reflection had made it a golden yellow color. She was beautiful. I've admired my mother since I was little, every man wanted her, she was beautiful. I remember her ex husband told me "you'd never be beautiful like your mother." But I never listened. I knew, some day, boys would look at me the same way they did to her. It felt impossible but I'd manage. I finally broke the silence with an attitude I picked up from her ex husband.

"What the hell. You don't trust me? This is why I can't stand you. You treat me like I'm insane! I'm perfectly fine!" Tears managed to escape my eyes, I wiped them as best as I could.

"Where did that come from? John? Little bastard picked up from him? Well enough. And you are insane. Psychotic if you'd ask me!" She didn't even bother turning around.

"Psychotic? Is that what I am? Says the women who can't even say these cruel things to my face? You can't. I'm your daughter. You don't have the guts to say anything so rude. You know I'd take it against you. Smart one. We finally have something in common."

She finally looked at me. "Oh we both know you're psychotic. It's no privellage. Do you cut? I found these damn razors. Tell me the truth!" She grabbed my arm and pulled up my sleeve.

"Hah I'm a child now. Even though I'm 17. Leave me alone don't ever touch me again! It's my body. I'll do what I want with it. It's obviously not my fault that cutting releases endorphins and endorphins ease pain. Tell that to your psychology doctor." I pulled my arm back and walked down the stairs.

"You always walk away! Childish if you ask me."

"Yeah but no one asked you, 'mom'."