Food Fights
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- Parts 3
Ongoing26m
Last published Thu, Sep 13, 2018
My name is Nerina Barnard, and I'm your new friend! (whether you like it or not) My life seems to LOVE to spiral out of control at random times in random places, luckily I have an awesome friend (you) to help me fight frequent frantic food frenzies I fall into! (That's a lot of Fs) Strangely, nobody else can hear you talking to me . . . they all think I'm crazy when I mention that my best friend reads my life like a book and lives up in my head to help me fight evil food. My mom says I need "serious psychological help". Whatever THAT means. I'm hoping she's saying she'll get me some help to fight off all the wacko stuff that keeps attacking me, because man, I could really use it.
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foodfights
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DIABOLIC SERIES 3 All my life I've lost my breath. It would happen over the simplest things, if I stretched too high to catch a ball, lifted something for too long, if I sneezed, if I talked. Other times I would loose my breath because I had a panic attack, or was yelling or being yelled at, if I was exerting myself on a physical level. Having the wind knocked out of me is a familiar feeling. But I didn't truly know what it felt like to loose the air in my lungs, loose the feeling that has kept my alive my entire life. I didn't loose it when I fell in love, I didn't loose it when I found out one drunken night with the girl I love would mean a baby, I didn't loose it when I found out that I'd actually be a father. No, I lost that when she told me that she doesn't love me. When she spit in my face how much she can't stand me, how I've ruined her life, that she doesn't want me in any aspect. I'm not her 'type' whatever that means, seeing as she quite willingly had sex with me. Her saying this made this ugly, lonely and depressing thought hit my diaphragm. Violet Thompson is carrying my child. And she despises me for it. The way I came to this conclusion was simple, Nonnie- -that's what I call her, since her middle name's Noel and I wanted something to call her that if I shouted it in the middle of a crowd, only she would turn to and know it's me- -told me that all she wants is someone there. A father for her baby, a physical presence. Not a mind, personality. Not a person. A body. A shell. I've been a dead man walking. And I was that shell, was just a body... until I found him.
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