My Bubble Of Antidepressants And Shrine Of Problematic Events

IV

'Ain't nothing that pleases me more than you'

- Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros, Home.

<~>

It was shortly after Nik has spoken to me about speaking to a Miller that within mere seconds I'd whipped off a text, one that wasn't too overly noticeable I liked him, one that didn't show off my stunning infatuation, one that was a legitimate text via Facebook, the social media of today.
The response was simple, it was a short but subtle 'Hi'. I don't know what was more surprising, the fact that I, a wordsmith could only greet with a plain 'hi' or the fact he texted back within seconds.
Either way, it was hard to digest, the very surprising truth that I, a socially awkward fucked up breed of human had mustered up the strength to text or the fact he was texting back.
If you can't imagine, regardless of the matter I was excited, this blended with a crazed amount of nerves, but for the majority it was excitement.
The fingers did the typing, within seconds I'd already formulated a most certainly crafty and most definitely not an original text.
This was 'How are you?' I remember being so proud of managing to speak to him.
Now I look back, through the very same chat I can't help but let a guffaw elope me, the laughter becomes of me.
Seconds tick past, nausea chews inside of me, my head throbs from the stream of words, the countless possibilities, the extreme and non-extreme cases, either way I was preoccupied with thoughts, the prospects of nothing that I completely didn't see the text come through.
Miller: Pretty good, yourself?
Me: Not too bad actually, just letting music drown me as per usual.
(If you haven't cottoned on from prior chapters I love to say the phrase 'As per usual' I don't know why)
Miller: Oh, so, who do you especially give a liking to? Anyone good?
Me: Duh, of course someone good. Her name is Sia, my Bae for like an eternity.
Miller: Really? I'm into more of the 'different' tastes of music, :)
Me: How so?
Miller: I'm more of the 'outside' music, like more of the stuff that's considered, different?

<~>

It took the span of seconds, they stretched to minutes before one of us managed to speak about famous musicians before one of us popped the question.
The question if we wish to play the 'question' game, a game invented in who knows what age, a game purely crafted in knowing someone better. Some people used to say it was for the only intention of getting to know someone before resulting to asking one on a date.
But hey, what can I say? Desperate times result to even more so desperate measures, some leading to even more desperate outcomes. The world works in very different and peculiar ways, whether we wish it or not to.
Either way , regardless it was still a great way to get to know someone much better, and I most certainly wanted to know this person better, even if it did mean some embarrassing answers on my end of the deal, but again.
Sacrifices are meant to be sacrifices for a reason. Especially in a diplomatic world, a society ran on rash, harsh tough choices that equal even tougher sacrifices.

<~>

'Worst nightmare you've ever had?' Was a question that cropped up eventually, a question I for one never had come accustomed to, especially because of my prior life experiences. However, I knew it would be especially hard for Miller.
It was only this year he'd lost his friend, some would say brothers, lovers, the whole stream of relations was sprung into them. I personally just saw them as brotherly friends, it was a rare friendship, that much was for certain.
His friend died of a heart attack at seventeen, most definitely an age that no one should ever pass.
He never even got to live a life, just a single moment.
That is by far the saddest thing ever.

<~>

My nightmare was involving 'him', most people have a person, an apparition that they fear forever.
I've heard that children call him the 'Bogeyman', the one that terrorises the abyss land of dreams, the world of imagination where reality no longer reigns, a galaxy where anything can happen.
Once, I loved it, craved it even however now all I do is loathe it, not because of my lack of imagination (Give me some credit, I'm an author) but because of what reigns in my no longer controlled world.
The Bogeyman for me is my father, not even that, I'd prefer to call him as a sperm donor, besides that I have no other relation to him, in my eyes at least he is nothing but a stigma that all I crave to erase, that my stomach lurches is to rip from my soul, to remove his marks from my body.
My nightmare begins in a dark room, in a place where black is given birth to death, in a four walled room that creaks and crawls with demons that only belong in the endless abyss of the night.
The brightest colour by far is black, it submerges he walls, drowns the floor, fills the creaks with a haunting caw.
In my dream its split apart by an inhumane plead for death, a cry for the reclaim of her sanity, I know it's a girl, I know that voice as I've heard it countless times before.
Then, as if a tap streaming with water is cut off just as abruptly as her scream, silence claims the room.
For a second I swear I could breathe.
Then, the walls fall down, streaks of red lather all over me and suddenly I'm choking for air, suffocation overwhelms me completely.
It's where and there I see the sperm donor, the resemblances are daunting, forever the moment is fixed in my heads, for that one moment I have a photographic memory, a tattoo is engraved on my mind. The features are small but memorable.
A carved smile, a wicked red grin.
A pointed finger drowned in a insane guffaw.
Then, there's a rain of pain, a pool of suffering.
It's here where my dream just begins.

<~>

Author's Time

So peeps, how's it going?
I know, I can't believe it either. It's already almost Feb, how ridiculous is that?
I swear, some days there isn't 24 hours, I'm like positive the time is leeched away, convinced even some would say.
Anyway, if you guys like how my story (LOL, my actual story) is progressing hen please do press the little star of appreciation and feel free to comment! Harsh comments are most definitely welcomed to help curb my terrible authoring skill.
Anyway, as per usual I love you all, you peoples are adorable and each mean something to me. Also, apologies for perusing my cliffhanger... NOT!

Peace,

Jamez.Kri.er