Writer In The Dark

Chapter 1- Tennis Court

Don't you think that it's boring how people talk?

Well I certainly think so. I think it's incredibly boring. Considering the fact that people always talk about the same few things, and either compliment them or hate them, it was only a matter of time before it got boring. That's why I play tennis. Tennis is a calming device for me. The smooth but also rough feel of my racket smacking the green glow of the tennis ball makes me controlled, and much more calm. I don't know why I also spend so many nights there. I mean I'm 21 now, just recently. I'm a smart young women. And I'd like to believe I'm viewed as beautiful. What could I possibly gain from a few swings of a tennis racket in an empty tennis court in the cold air of 2am in the morning? Peace, perhaps? Normality? don't know. Yet again, maybe it's just the way people talk

Making smart with their words again? Well I'm bored.

I am bored. It's getting tiring listening to people. Seriously.

Because I'm doing this for the thrill of it, killing it. Never not changing a million things I want.

I mean I was. I was chasing everything I was hoping for. But greed dies fast. But fame doesn't.

And I am only as young as the minute is.

God I feel like I'm aging faster than a fucking fruit. Nope. Not fair. I want to age like the wine I'm now legally allowed to drink.

Getting pumped up on the little bright things I bought. But I know they'll never own me

They will never own me. I own myself. I am Ella Marija Yani Yelich-O'Connor and I am my own self. I'm actually a legal adult now. Which is fucking terrifying

Pretty soon I'm be getting on my first plane. I'll see the veins of my city like they do in space.

Ok the plane, the plane I'll admit was something else. Something I never get tired of. I don't fly a lot. I see it as a luxury. I want it be a treat for me just like it is for a lot of other people who live normally. See that's the key. Normality. We're back on that topic again.

Crack! Another wack at the ball. It hits the metal barrier just outside the perimeter of the court itself, the sound of the metal clanging ricochets into the air. Now I've got to retrieve. Great. More time to think.

But my head's filling up fast with the wicked games, up in flames.

Yes those wicked games. They'll say anything to sell you something, won't they? I bet they will

How can I fuck with the fun again when I'm known?

Nah that's nots problem for me. I'm always either fucking with the fun or fucking having fun.

I got the ball again. I let it run through my fingers as it's fuzz softly tickles me. Kind of like how he used to tickle my neck.

And my boys trip me up with their heads again, loving them

Boys suck. Well I mean James really sucks for what he did to me. And Jack is too dear of a friend to ever want to do that with me.

Everything's cool when we're all in line for the throne

Why do I always do that? Make relationships seem like s contest I'm so over it. I'm not dating ever again