I wake up at 8:34am on a Saturday morning. Groaning, I roll over and shove my head back under the blankets.
This has always been my safe zone. No one can hurt me when I’m hidden from the world, so that’s what I will do.
The light streams in from the cracks in the curtain, illuminating my room. I can hear the sounds of a lawnmower rumbling, obviously trying to start up.
I sigh, putting a pillow over my head to try to block out the unwelcome noise. Who the hell needs to mow their lawn at 8:30 on a Saturday morning? I guess maybe they’re busy all day today, and have no other time to do it, because god only knows the grass can’t wait one more day before being cut.
I personally think it’s very disrespectful to the entire neighbourhood. Everyone can hear you, so why do it’s silent and everyone normal is trying to sleep.
I don’t get it, but maybe that’s just me. All I know is that I really want to be asleep right now, and that’s really hard to do when the sound of a roaring lawnmower is filling the air.
I can always use sleep too, and right now whoever is mowing their lawn is taking away time I could be using to sleep.
I guess you could say that I’m sleep deprived, except I’m always like that no matter how much sleep I get. There’s permanent bags under my eyes. I’m just constantly tired, and there’s no escape.
I guess I’m tired of everything though, and sleep is my only escape.
Even if it’s just for a little while, I’m unconscious and the only thing I see is darkness. I find it calming in a way, because I feel like I’m slipping out of reality for a while. It’s an escape, and that’s all I really want.
To escape from the torture some of us call living is my idea of heaven.
*
It’s now 10:03am, and I have given up on trying to sleep after an hour and 29 minutes with no success.
It’s whatever, I mean, there’s always tonight, and I think that it’s not normal that the only thing that’s motivating me to get out of bed right now is the idea of coming back later tonight and forgetting everything again. I don’t think I can stay in bed all day, no matter how tempting that sounds. I don’t really see why not, even though I force myself to get out of bed. It’s not like anyone will mind if I try to sleep all day. No one really notices that I’m here; I think they forget I exist sometimes. Not that I blame them. Sometimes I wish I don’t exist either. To be not real, or have to deal with dragging myself through each day seems amazing, and maybe that’s not normal.
I don’t think I’m really here for a reason, I mean I’m not important to anyone. People rarely think of me, and when they do, someone better comes along and they have no problem with replacing me. My dad replaced me years ago, when I was eight. He left with no promise to keep in touch, or that he would be back. He left me with the truth and no matter how much that hurts, I’ll always be somewhat appreciative that there was always something truthful in my life.
I’ll be lucky if he even remembers my name, or if he remembers me at all. Maybe I’m just easily forgotten, and I probably always will be.
My mom probably doesn’t think too much about me during her day. Basically she goes to work, which wouldn’t be that bad if I got to see her occasionally, but when she gets off work she goes straight to her boyfriend’s house and does god knows what before I hear her come home at 3 or 4 in the morning. I always pretend I’m asleep, and I close my eyes and listen to her feet padding on the carpeted flooring, because even though she isn’t home often she’s home at that time and sometimes those soft sounds of her feet on the ground are the only reassurance that she’s real and she still cares enough to come home sometimes.
I’ve never had real friends either. When somebody is forced by a teacher to be my partner for a lab I see everyone throwing looks at them. I know, I feel bad for them too, they have to work with a freak, I get it, and it sucks.
*
I finally actually get out of bed, my feet touching the ground as I tread to the door. I take a glance in the mirror hanging from the door and grimace at my reflection. My hair looks dull and my eyes lifeless. I swing the door open and walk to the bathroom. I don’t glance at that mirror, instead I go straight to the shower and turn it on.
I like it when the entire room is steamy, and the water is almost scalding hot.
I step in once I feel the temperature is hot enough, and enjoy the feeling on the boiling water on my back. It makes my body go numb and red, which can’t be healthy, but I like the feeling. I don’t know why, I guess numb is a word to describe me.
I can’t feel anything anymore.
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HI GOOD NEWS I'M DOING NANOWRIMO SO I'LL PROBABLY UPDATE THE NEXT CHAPTER TOMORROW GET EXCITED OKAY NO ONE'S READING THIS.
SHE'S MEETING LUKE NEXT CHAPTER I'LL SEE YOU SOON
