La Douleur Exquise

She, I and You

Fast cut, fast pain. Fast pain, less gain.

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Disgusting. The room reeked of smoke, urine and sweat mixed with burnt food. It fills the tangy hot air of billowed pollution. The sun hit the mouldy window glass and spreads some kind of yellow light over the room.

I am Sarah Heart. And the light is burning holes through my eyes. Dizzy from the intoxicating drink from yesterday, I couldn't stand. Without trying, I give up and let my heavy lids lead me far away from this mess.

You see her limbs sprawled over a green couch. Seaweed green; faded over hours of slacking. You examine her arm. You see dried blood over slashes and needle scars on her pale skin. You see no room for another wound. You feel sad.

Amidst the cigaretter butts, rotten fruits and powdered substances, a sharp glass lay harmless over the table. Red liquid stained its edges. Knives cut too fast. Fast cut, fast pain. Fast pain, less gain. She knew this. She was, in fact, a smart girl. Was being the keyword. She stirs, inches from falling off her makeshift bed, half conscious.

I see no reason for lunch. I have not eaten breakfast, what could not eating lunch do? I know the answer. I've been there before and is still here now. Stomach cramps and hollow feel. But it's okay, I have beer. There's one or two at the ref. Although I'm too high to walk and get it right now. Later. Maybe, later.

You walk over the kitchen counter. Dirty dishes have piled up on the rusty sink. You think it's an awful sight and back away as a cockroach grazes a plate. Taking a step, you grab the fridge handle bar and open it.

Cheese is such a smelly food. Especially if it's in the process of decomposition. There is one at a plate beside the beer. One bottle is full, the other is half empty half full. Mostly empty. A shrunk bag of chip is in the freezer. Along with an expired cup of green yogurt and a syringe. The hinges creak as it closes.

I am dreaming of a happy dream. Elephants are flying with me in red dresses and giraffes are asking me to get their food for them. The pink grass were cut short as green flowers sprout in it. In this realm, I have this peace. In reality, I only long for it. Unless I get the injection thing and weed the smoke. It is a dream. And when I wake up, I'll have this dream again. Just so peace can extend it's stay a little longer.

A snore erupts, and you instantly know it's from her. You stand back and watch her sleep. She doesn't look like she's asleep. You think she looks dead. You hear her short jagged breaths and eratic heart beat. Effects of  drugs. You stare at the crushed powder near you. You look at her back again. She almost look peaceful. You silently thank the drug.

She gets up hours later, the sun already set. Kicking the filthy clothes out of her way, she got her jacket. She's going out. Her brain-shattering headache is killing her and she needs medicine. Vision spinning from hangover, she descend the stairs slowly. She hadn't paid the rent for months. This, maybe is her last time to descend that stair. Hopefully yes, hopefully not.

My jacket gives me useless warmth. The air is thick with coldness and the fabric is of no use. I hug my arms, hair starting to rise. I finally reach the pharmacy in what felt like hours. I tell the seller to give me headache medication. He looks surprised and confused. I must've looked terrible.

You watch as the biting cold scour her skin and legs. You eye her legs; she wears a skirt. Skinny, like her arms is. The strong wind is ruffling her messy hair. Dark hair. Once, when she was still upright it suited her complexion. Now, you think, not so much. You near her, just right to see her clearly but not enough to get her attention. You watch her close, and though the guy in the counter thinks she's really messed up, you still think she is beautiful.

She takes the medicine and pays for it. Only two cents are left from her pocket after. She didn't care. If she'd die then so be it. Her shoes scrunches over the pebbly floor. The sound irritated her. Just when she couldn't take the frustration from the crunching sound, she sat down on a porch. To hell with whose porch it is.

I find pavements boring. And pebble floors annoying. I don't like floors that much.I don't like pretty much everything but talking animals. And pink grass.

Your eyes explore the neighborhood she's in. Decent houses with brick walls are neatly lined up. It's a quiet little town. You peel your gaze back at her again. She's standing up, resuming her cavalry. In many minutes, she reaches her apartment. You watch as she made her way upstairs. To the safest place she can get. Yet you know it's not safe there at all.

She is surprised by the uneventful comeback. She had expected her obese and grumpy landlady on her case as soon as she gets back. She secretly hopes she's dead. Her think fingers locked with the beer body. In one swift motion, she took four headache pills and downed it with a gulp.

I'm over the clouds. The distorted birds have begged me to stop pissing them off. But I'm having so much fun. Who knew four headache pills can work so fast? Colors swirl above me and I am content. I hope forever lasts this way. No more headaches and pain. Free from my abusive mother and pedophile father. Free.

You knew she's remembering you. A mother who has not really loved her. You don't think you love her now still. You stood as she fell on the floor, a foolish smile on her cracked lips. You pity her, but doubt if you'll ever care.

She falls to the floor once again. Like she always did always. Every night. Every night of pill-full conclusion. She looks happy though. Murmurs of silly, incoherent remarks escape her as she palpitate and twitch. It was the same as yesterday, the same scene the day before and tha day after that. This is her life after all. And right now, at this very moment, she's not sad. Buried in ecstasy and fake warmth, she felt almost happy.

I am miserable. Tomorrow. Maybe, tomorrow. hopefully tomorrow. There's less memories. And more of this. Reality escape; Fake. Fantasy. Impossible. Unreal.

But peaceful.  

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Third person, First person, Second person tenses in one passage. haha. I've never done something like this before.  Please tell me what you think of it?