There were many sides of Alfred F. Jones and this was his darkest. He sat in his corner blasting "world so cold" by three days grace. He was huddled, his arms to his chest crying. His second home, the walls reminding him of all the pain that kept bringing him to this place. He was having another episode and this one was bad. He was thinking, falling, flying, soaring, buzzing, dropping, swimming, floating, drowning, pushing, breathing, thinking. The pain in his heart greatly surpassing the pain in his wrist. As the crimson flowed from his body he made no move to stop the sting, the burn sparking pleasure and control in his mind.
"Never again" he whispered and he picked up the razor and made another diagonal slash and crawling over to his own personal monster. The evil white power sat on the floor lined perfectly.
"You steal all my money you kno that?" he said dripping blood all over the floor, trailing his inner angst behind him for all to see. He bent down and inhaled the monster clogging is nose and his brain one more time, could it hurt? Falling back on his ass he contemplated what to do with his extra time. The snow in his nostrils did more than steal his money it stole his life, his heart, his brain and brought him to heights no one could imagine. No other nation knew of his fits America is such an inconsistent place, there was no one stereotype in such a mixed place. When he was alone he had a habit of knocking on this door for a splurge and not of fast food. He felt a hand on his stomach and looked up to see another of the monsters children crawling over him, emptiness in her eyes.
"Kate" was all she said touching the blood from his wrist and putting it in her mouth her own bloody wrists showing dripping down her arm and onto the floor
"Mike" was his short reply the fake name fit well. he did the same as her touching her wrist and putting it to his mouth, they sat and talked, spoke of things so different yet so intertwined.
Names - people
Anger - emotions
Feelings - pain
School - work
Boys
Girls
Alternative - rap
Grades - paychecks
First times
Scares
Rape
Tears
Hate
Loss
And that feeling...the one that neither one of them could describe. Having so much to say, your head screaming so loud with word that never made it past your lips, to afraid to even contemplate the punishments, spinning, screaming, bashing, against your brain wanting to be let out and having to turn to snow to quite them. The snow...was so beautiful and it came in all forms. A needle, a pipe, It didn't matter one look at the sugar and the voices shivered, crying, screaming, begging, not again.
The two conversations eventually became one meshing with one common interest with common stories and common endings
Pain
Anger
Blood
Death
The monster
i kno its short just a small story that came to me in one of my fits heheh jk i was reading crank and listening to rolling in the deep and this is what you get review please