The Emptiness of Midnight

Reads: 341  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 4

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

I have to skate because it's all I know what to do. I have to smoke because it's all I can do. Can you help me from my miserable life? My abusive step-dad, a woman I hate to call my mother? Hell, no. So don't judge me, for I am Jayden Anthony Dodge and my life is a fucked up catastrophe.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Emptiness of Midnight

Submitted: February 12, 2011

Reads: 345

Comments: 4

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 12, 2011

A A A

A A A

 

Hello, sweet, lovely readers. <3

This story is a small entrance to how my mind views the world,

I'd love for you to drop by my page if you would,

and please give a little comment of your opinion.

~Love, Arissa~


Fear.

Anxiety.

Sadness.

Hopelessness.

 

All of these emotions flood through me at once, overpowering me, making me feel as if my head were about to explode. I can feel my heart racing, pounding against my chest. I suck in a breath as my chest explodes in a flurry of pain, I feel lightheaded as I fumble along the shower and through a curtain of water, trying to turn off the solid flow. My hands are tingling, numb and I can’t breathe at all. What is happening?

 

I’m trembling and shaking and go down on my knees, having not succeeded in turning off the faucet. Chills rake through my back and I stagger along the shower on all fours, emitting a strangled cry as I vomit, expelling the dull contents of my stomach, and it washes down the drain, leaving a revolting odor.

 

Terror.  Another new emotion.

 

I have a sense that something unimaginably horrible is about to occur and I can’t prevent it. Should I try and escape the shower?

 

Panic.

 

Is anybody at home? I wonder if I should consider shouting for my stepfather, but I very much don’t want to contact such a person. Especially when I’m bare of clothes in water, vomit spraying from my nose and mouth.

 

A mental image pops into my head; I’m near railroad tracks and everything is silent. Then suddenly a noise is heard from the distance. Is it thunder or something else? I turn my head as if in slow motion and see lights, and the noise gets louder. A horn blares. The ground is vibrating. Its cold and I can see my breath coming out foggily. The train rushes up near me and I suddenly realize I’m standing in the middle of the tracks, but I can’t move; my feet are glued to the ground. The last thing I see before being pulled back into reality is the bright light directly in front of my head and a deafening shriek.

 

I make my way to the front of the shower, glancing up at the falling water. It falls into my eyes and I have to blink it away. My hands slip and slide along the tub and I fall, chin striking the cold water.

 

A blast of boiling hot water hits the side of my face and I scream out in agony, shrinking against the back of the tub.

 

The pain – it’s so awful I’m on the verge of passing out, and I lean away from the reach of the blistering stream and clutch my face, close my eyes.

 

That is how I got my scar.


© Copyright 2017 Arissa Butterfly. All rights reserved.

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