The Spirit Within (Editing)

Part 2

I ended up waking up later that day. I scanned my surroundings.
"Oh my god." I breathed out. I looked down from the tree I had fell asleep on. My heart nearly fell down the drop. I felt the blood drain from my face.
I. hate. heights.
I leaned too closely to the edge of the large branch. I lost footing and slipped off. 

I remember when this first happened. My life flashed before my very eyes. I didn't want to die. I knew I was going to, and accepted the fact I was going to by the time I was on the ground safe and sound. I thought The Spirit Within had saved my life.

That bitch. Just wanted to see me suffer longer and more intensively.

I instinctively grabbed onto the branch as gravity caused the branch to bounce back and wobble slightly. The entire branch was shaking due to my arm shaking with large amounts fright.

"Shit." I hissed at myself. I didn't have claws, I examined my human hand. And let myself drop.
The ground came faster then expected. I wasn't even worried. I let myself fall without a care in the world. This was a norm for me. But I was still adjusting after I've experienced a drastic change in my life.
I was thirteen years old at the time. And quite possibly not ready for the painful changes that emerged seemingly out of no where.

My body contorted almost naturally. I landed on the ground on my feet, and a hand on the ground keeping myself steady.
I exhaled, the rush of falling still gets to me. Surrounding leaves felt the rush too, rising from the ground and creating a sea of dead leaves covering my bare feet.  Brushing off my dirt covered thighs I made my way up through the forest. Stepping on dead branches, feeling them break beneath my feet. Sometimes hurting, sometimes not.
Kicking up my speed I tread out of the forest and jog up the hill to my house.
I went to the back door and tried prying off the lock with my stronger then normal strength. It wouldn't budge.

I really just wanted to scream.

I grumbled under my breath as I went through to the front of the house and eyed my window and took out the screen and leaped through, quickly putting the screen on.

A couple years back when I couldn't control myself, I somehow managed to smash through the screen of my open window and I popped it out. It had a gaping hole in it and a hole too big to explain to a parent. They just wouldn't understand. Yet another factor of my loneliness. Fortunately they don't question any of it, which I find quite unusual at times.

I flopped onto my bed, exhaling once more and letting my heart get back to normal. I sat there for a while. Staring at the ceiling, examining the ceiling fan as the chains swung around rapidly crashing against each other. Somehow reminding me of how me and The Spirit Within butt heads with each other. I wish I'd just wake up. It feels like I'm living in one big dream that I cannot escape from no matter how hard I thrash and bang my entire body against the side of the mental crate I keep myself in. I closed my eyes, continuing my deep breathing. 
I then managed to roll to my side and looked at the clock placed behind me.
It read 4:04 PM
"Son of a BITCH!" I yelled in frustration.
I grabbed my hair and exhaled again. The harmony between my anger, heart and breathing were barely ever in sync. I felt my entire body shake with disappointment as I cried out into my cut covered hands. The salty tears burned my palms. No where near the emotional pain I was experiencing.
I slowly made my way over to my closet, and grabbed a bunched up shirt and threw it on, with a pair of underwear. I was shivering but I didn't care. I crawled into bed and pulled a blanket up to my chin. I felt the tear tickle my cheek as it slowly dribbled down similar to when it starts to rain in a car, when it slowly begins to rain. First one dot on the windshield and then an entire colony of drops, eventually turning into a storm. 

This is the life of me. Missing school nearly all the time because of the curse. The curse that appeared out of no where. I am too scared to reveal it to my parents. They wouldn't get it. No one does. Not even I get it, how can someone else?
I'm surprised I didn't go to court for truancy, I still try my best to get caught up. If my friends ask about my absence I go deep into thought scrounging around for answers and simply ignore them. It gets tough.

I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed a cigarette out of my nearly empty box. Times like these I craved the numbing comfort they gave me. With trembling hands I turned on my lighter and watched the little flame dance about as I held out the cigarette with my other hand patiently waiting for the flame to leap to the cigarette. It eventually did as I clicked off the lighter and anxiously  took a huge puff and leaned back against the wall as I felt more tears trickling down my face, not caused by the amount of smoke entering my lungs, but the excess smoke irritating my eyes. 

That, and I was incredibly depressed. 

Tears leaked uncontrollably from my eyes from the amount of smoke I emitted into the air. I rapidly took more puffs, as I felt the drug of nicotine kick in as I lay back against the headboard of my bed and relax. I cough a little, as the smoke slightly irritated my lungs. But with every good thing, there must be a catch.

Every single one of my muscles release their individual contraction as I lay there and sigh intently. This was just what I needed. Besides the backlash of nonstop coughing fits that would occur. Although I'm still getting used to the concept of smoking, it's still adjusting internally.