illuminate s.m

[ 1.1 ] white

white

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     I've always loved the colour white. It's clean and simple; which is a thing I need at the moment. It always was my favourite and I really have no idea why I loved it before I started needing that simple colour. But in this exact moment there is nothing I hate more than the light colour. Memories of the body of an eighteen-year-old boy clothed in white haunts me in the night. I haven't slept once without this dream for god knows how long. I'm tired, but that's okay I guess.

It's not sounds that wake me up. It's completely silent outside, which is quite weird as I live in the middle of London. The curtains in my room are closed but the bright sunlight from outside seeps through the big windows and white fabric. My whole room is light coloured and it makes it all seem brighter which is probably what wakes me up most mornings if it isn't the nightmares.

When I were younger I hated silence. I hated when nothing happened. I hated when I didn't get any attention from my parents. Now silence is a rare thing to me, and only when it's dead silent, I truly relax. My everyday life is so full of events and plans that I rarely ever have time for myself and my needs. Easily said; getting attention is not a problem anymore.

I pull the sheets off my body and get out of my bed, before I head to the bathroom. Here I stand looking at myself in the mirror for a minute, trying to find myself. Blonde hair with bangs ending at my bra-strap. Blue, tired eyes. No makeup to cover my tiredness. Then I tell myself the same as I do every single day; It's just twenty-four hours to get through and you've survived one more day.

I don't know exactly when I started telling myself this and at that time I didn't know why either. It's like a mantra. It's thirteen words that somehow keeps me going when it seems impossible. I could say that it keeps me sane but I'd probably be lying. I've realised that to everyone around me, I may look far from insane and I may even sound completely sane, but to be honest I'm starting to lose it. You probably would have been too if you were in my position.

I find my robe and go downstairs. I head into the kitchen and find myself a bowl of leftover pasta from last night. Tired but still awake, I lay down on the sofa and turn the tv on. It instantly goes to Clever News and I'm staring at a picture of myself from last night's Teen Choice Awards. I know I shouldn't care what they say, but I can't help but turn the volume up enough for me to hear the hostess speak.

"Last night at the Teen Choice Awards the stunning Adria Bailey took three awards home, after winning all her nominated categories and delivered a very good show with her latest single "Fixing feelings". Adria went to the event without a date, much to our disappointment. The young singer is releasing her second album next week and we couldn't be more excited! Stay tuned for the next few weeks to hear our thoughts and comments to the new album."

That was unusually happy and not hateful. I usually avoid the gossip-shows as far as I can because I've realised what those people really want. They don't want the truth. They don't want honesty unless it helps their cause. And most of all, they want secrets and dangerous gossip. Gossip that could kill all I've been working for in only a matter of a few minutes. I'm glad the press only know what I've told them about my story because some things are far worse than they think.

I grew up in a torn-up family in Liverpool. We didn't have much money, and we barely had a place to live. My mom had my brother, John, when she was 18, and my dad was 24. Then they had me three years later. My mom never got an education, but my dad did. He ended up working as a lawyer, but he left us when I was two, without a reason. Therefore, my mom worked in a store close to our home, and she got us the money we needed for food, but nothing more.