Chapter 1: I as a Pronoun*
Running, running from the ever judging eyes, running from the force that compels my arms and legs to move, running from peoples regecting words. Running i tried, running i failed. On this dark curvy, this stale memory, this cursed road, ive been here before. All i can grasp at this very moment, the love that i once had for the people i knew. The love i still have but hide in small drawers in my sour heart, the very ones i knew, the very betrayers of my soul, the cause of my misery, the reason i can wake up and move closer to this blured wish i call reveng. Sunddenly i wake up to the same room i slept in last night. Red colored walls with nothing but holes embeded in it. Old shoe boxes laying around with the trash from yesterday's depression, i look up to a before white ceiling, my eyes fixed on the ever blinding red walls. It was a dream. It was all a dream. "My dreams were the only way for me to escape reality, but now my reality infiltrated my dreams too", "why, why do i have to live through this cursed day", as thoughts fill my confused mind, i get up and take a few steps to the bathroom, my 30 feet cube, my bathroom. My first mission is to check who i am, am i still that dark skined, acne embeded, 5'8, longe faced girl? or did the bad dream being along good fortune? "No" i sigh, still looking at my stained mirrow, staring and waiting for an untold miracle to caress my being as i crounch down to a ball on the floor, my arms wrapped around my knees with cristal tears streaming down my puffy cheeks, i once heard a tale about how God takes the tears of his saints every time they cry and put them in a bottle which he keeps, but my tears fall to the ground and not even the earth takes them in, tears that carry bits of my soul, tears that tell of my hurt, tears that come with pain, these tears are mine to keep. After taking a hot shower to wash away my sadness, i am welcomed by the depression of today. The knowlege i have that i am me and me doesn't even know who me really is, brings a tingling feeling down my back bone. I come from a family of 5 in which i am the odd one out. My sister was given my mums name and my brother was given my dads name, i was unplaned for, "i just was allowed". My brother is know for his music, a mixture of rap and singinig but he is mostly known for the way he puts his emotions on paper in a form of art, he is the gratest artist in my family. My sister has a good heart, but her soul opens up as she lets out her emotions out with an angelic voice, through singing she can express her deepest self. I was unplaned for, "i just was allowed". Every thing i consider a talent is merly an imperfect copy of the original. I draw because i saw my brother do it, i sing because i heard my sister do it, i cook because i saw my mum do it and i do good in school because my dad told me to do it. I am an empty shell, on a bridge that either leads to heaven or hell. Today im relaxing with Jesus in a bright airy scened forest with tress so tall they shield the suns rays with the smell of lavender sailing on the winds while birds cherp in harmony and fishes give life to the crystal clear ponds, Tomorrow im with the devil basking with delight in the stream that runs red with contempt, sin and the hatred that i hold. My name is 09, the cast away.
