The Girl That Never Smiled

♚ Tartarus is not welcoming, neither is school pretty... ♚

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PRESENT DAY:

I remember when my skull got vacated one night.

A thought, as I found myself stepping on the cracks...

I know - I should avoid them. Bad luck.
But my feet find themselves perpetually drawn to the concrete wrinkles

Empty.

I am in my prison now,
my Tartarus,
my palace of discord and chaos.

I've crossed the river of souls and payed the ferryman prior - but Hades was just a temporary stopover.

There I must have misplaced my golden apple.

A scoff fell out of my lips and dribbled onto the floor in all its sarcastic splendour, while I looked at how the outside walls of the building were dilapidated - plaster and paint peeling off them.

My mind found mondays descriptive...
It wasn't my decision...

I don't know how my brain worked.
It seems like every time I had a thought it would vanish and be replaced by a tangled concoction of secondary thoughts, sub-thoughts, little side notes and a sprinkle of pessimism that flooded my neurones. They always skipped down the alleyway of riot instead of a road of serenity.

That night... So blissfully quiet...

Instead of a massive hole in the wall, I saw a mass of spiders.
Instead of a broken piece of plaster on concrete, I saw a carcass.
Instead of some mould and fungi in the corner I saw a sea of skeletons and pain...

In a nut-shell...

They were just shapes. Shapes created by shadows, by the little crumbs of brick and imagination. But I changed them... and I had no clue how to change them back...
In my head.

Slowly, I turned and walked away.

I walked up the few steps which led to the main entrance and shoved the doors open with my right shoulder. Keeping my head down, I made my way towards the lockers, passing by the reception desk on the way.

My long hair was loose so that it hid my face, a brown waterfall cascading down, creating a barrier.

It kept me isolated and kept others out too.

I liked that.

Coldly numb...

Once I reached my locker I twisted the little combination lock to the right and opened it, dumped my stuff in and shoved the things I would need in my bag.

Papers, tissues, pens and pencils stuck out like abatises and every time I wanted to take a book out it was a crazy game of Jenga, I hated games.

I didn't ever bother locking it - the tumblers were broken so any code worked on it.
It was a pain in the ass but saved me time.

Shutting my locker with a slight bang, I exhaled a short huff and leaned against it.

Huh...

I have always suffered from this terrible and un-advantageous condition called feelings, self-diagnosed and proclaimed of course.
Alongside it... its twin has always nipped at my heels...
Fate.