After I was dragged into the house and smothered to death by a hysterically tearful mother, I was forced to go upstairs and take a shower because I smelled like 'a homeless person that has taken up residence in a sewer pipe.' As I was fumbling around in the bathroom cupboard for shampoo I found my sisters' bar of lavender soap that our gran had given her for Christmas two years ago, it was still gathering dust on the shelf. The water was scalding, I could feel it burning every inch of my pale, thin body, removing the emotions, thoughts and feelings that had built up over time I left. I watched as the water dripped methodically off my greasy, messy, uncut hair. The scars that covered my body reflected in the bright, white, led lights. I wished that they would disappear, I wished that I could disappear.
Sleeping that night was the hardest thing I had to do in weeks, I was so used to sleeping under the stars that staring at a black, empty ceiling seemed unnatural. But after long wait and the heaviness of my eyelids, I finally drifted into a dreamless unconsciousness. Instead of seeing vibrant colors and my fictional world grow around me all I saw and heard was a dark nothingness. It was most like sleeping outside really helped hold back the insomnia that had taken control of my life, it must've been the cool, fresh air and wide open space. I missed Jordan so much.
The time came a couple days later when mum finally began asking questions. "Where did you go?" "Were you safe?" "Where's Jordyn?" "Why did you leave?" I still didn't feel like talking so I furiously scowled at the rusted iron gate in front of the grand, weathered, marble fireplace. The mention of Jordyns' name made me physically flinch, I wish he wasn't dead.
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I Tasted Freedom, I Wish I Hadn't
General FictionRyan thought that leaving behind everything would give him the freedom he craved but it made him feel more trapped than ever.
