diary of a living dead girl

christmas

Dear diary. I think it's safe to say life is a blur. You know that scene from perk of being a wall flower where Logan, I cant remember his name but the actor is Logan. Anyway he took acid and sat on the couch, watching the world go by. That's how I've been. Watching the world like I'm not in it. Just a spectator. My mind drifting to un wanted things. Elaina mostly but I think it's a pain I'm forcing myself to feel so I don't have to face what I did at the meet the parents dinner. Everywhere I turn I seem to be losing people. Physically and mentally. Even Bertha and Prudence have been keeping their distance. They canceled the sleepover. 

I planned so much for it. It was the only thing keeping me going while professors dump as much work on us for the break. Vacation, never heard of her. I should of written a long time ago. Like when Beej left but I didn't. I'm writing now after having an episode. Kind of pathetic but I didn't take the cancelation well. Like I said I had planned a lot of activities for us to do. Even made us an apple pie. Prue's favorite. The thing is they called me together so I know they were at Bertha's place. Leaving me out. I didn't take it well. I punched my mirror and now it's in tatters. I grabbed a shard but I didn't mark myself this time. 

Could you imagine, having to spend Christmas in the hospital. It actually be better then hanging around Delia's sister. I took a morphine pill instead. I know, look at you falling in your families prescribed drug addiction. Telling yourself its just this once. Just to taper off the pain. Just to distract so you don't do something reckless. It did take the edge off. I laid on my bed, staring up at the top of my bed. Crying, just tears running down my face. I know I went down stairs to get some water. Adam saw me, I told him it was a wave and I was riding it. Laying back down as more tears fell down my face. 

I don't know what's happening, I don't normally cry. I like being alone and hate having people in my space. I always use to say I'd be ok if Bertha and Prudence stopped talking to me. There's only so much you can take. But everything feels so lonely lately. Like the world just moves and I'm left sitting on a couch. Drugged and abandoned. 

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Lydia re read over her writing. Sinking in her bed at the dramatics her pages held. She tossed the book to the ground. Her silence broken by a knock at her door. "Lydia are you ready Zaphora will be here soon" Delia's composed voice called out to her. "And here I rot turning into mucus while the world dances. Partying in their posh settings. All holding their pride high as I melt away in the corner. Unnoticed until I become a stain in their perfect vision. The unwanted corpse of a girl everyone expects me to be. Dead from trying. Dead from failing." She said to her room. Each word making her body feel like lead. 

She sighed, rolling off her bed and onto the floor. She forced herself up, wobbling over to her mirror. She looked at the mess that she was. Red eyes from all her crying, pink nose. Bags under her eyes from sleepless nights. Her hair un brushed for days. She sighed, sitting down at the vanity she grabbed her scattered makeup. Looking into the mirror as she applied. No longer expecting her view to fade and the demons smile to replace her reflection. She dusted her face with pale concealer. Covering her tired eyes with red eyeshadow so no one noticed how pink her eyes looked. Covering the bags and splashing green over the top of her pattern. Making a large wing on the side of her face, connecting her top lid with her bottom one. Adding her black liner and drawing on bottom lashes. Painting on red lipstick. 

She barely looked at herself, turning away from the mirror. Grabbing the dress her step mother bought her to impress the guests. She tossed it on. Slipping her arms through the clingy sleeves with white fuzz at the end of it. Pulling the red fabric down so it flowed over her knees. Ending in white fluff around the green thermal leggings she already wore. She fixed the top, setting it on her shoulders so it draped across her collar bone. A snow flake pattern sat over her shoulders stopping above her stomach. Instead of brushing her hair she tied it up. Patting her bangs then making her way to the first floor.