A New Beginning, a misc. books fanfic

There are walls around me. Creeping. Closing. Consuming. I hide not in fear but out of necessity, for it wants me. It wants to devour me and take me into its darkness for eternity. I am not alone. There is no forgiveness where it wants to take me. There is only punishment for the sins that one has done in life. A pain that cannot be avoided once you are taken. An eternal scar that marks all sins. The punishment for being human. A condition we are not responsible for, but are punished for because we are. The Darkness is jealousy. It hates us for our abilities to feel. Feel life and love. It hates us for it. It wants to hurt us for it. These scars can only be given. Never taken away. The task is to break me. Break my soul. What is done in the Darkness cannot be undone. Molded, fixated on one thing: Destruction. Darkness is ever consuming. Never resting. Never pausing. Leaving Destruction in its wake always. Burning across the worlds, eating away at life and happiness. There is numbness after an eternity of ripping and tearing at my soul. I lay there broken, the pieces are scattered all around me. Twitching and writhing. There is no release. There is no way out. The Darkness will have my broken soul. It will find me and take me down to the depths of reality. My demons hunt me relentlessly. They will find me. Ripping away at everything that would save me from the Darkness that taunts me. My soul begs me to keep running from the inevitable pain and suffering. To keep pretending that there is nothing wrong with me. No one sees the Darkness that lives inside me. It wants to take over. Take me over. It will change me into the monster I once was. What I never wish to become again.

There is only one small light left for me now. My soul clings to it. Needs it. Desperation makes me weak. And yet there is a strength in my weakness. The Darkness is ever consuming, but the light slowly fights it off. A new beginning? Is this real? What will happen to the pieces of my ripped and tattered soul now? Is there a chance for redemption? Will this light help redeem my damned soul? The tiny ray of light burns with an intensity that reaches and grabs at the pieces of my soul. It's attempt at saving me is working. Slowly fighting back the Darkness and Demons that plague me night and day...

I sat at my computer re-reading what I had just written. Finally stumped for the night, I figured that I would come back to it later and see if I could get anymore out. There was a lot to be said still. Too much to really, to finish in a night. Writing is therapeutic. Or so I am told. There are a certain power about words that help heal. Blah blah blah. I guess it helps, as long as no one thinks I am crazy and tries to lock me up. It could happen. Is it wrong to wonder what life would be like if you never had to worry about anything? All you would have to do is chill out all day and let other people do everything for you. There has to be a limit though. You can only be helped if you want to be helped. Everything in life seems to be about wanting and needs. You can't have one without the other. More musings. It happens a lot when one is left alone to her own devices.

Wandering out of my room, I felt an aching need for food. Off to the kitchen then. I peeked out of my room to see if there was anyone lurking around. The hallway was cluttered. Not with regular house stuff either. This wasn't a regular house after all. Stuff went on here that most kids my age wouldn't understand. It was disgusting. Nothing but trash. I gave up cleaning and attempting to make it livable. There is just no point anymore. There were no bodies around. The coast clear I walked out and locked my door. You learn fast not to trust anyone around here. Not for a second. Or you might find things missing that will never be found again. I tried to avoid the clutter and not make a sound and I walked down the hallway to the kitchen. I could hear the television on, but no one was watching it. Looking around the corner I saw my mother laying on the couch with a bunch of random people also scattered around the room. Such is the life of a junkie burn out. I crinkled my nose at the toxic smells wafting around me, and continued off down the hall to the kitchen to find some food.

As I walked into the kitchen I saw more people. A cloud of smoke hit me. There were people in here not quite in the same state as my mom and her other 'friends' in the other room. Not yet at least. Give them about twenty minutes. They pretty much ignored me, not really caring about other life unless it involved getting a fix. It was like watching animals hovering over a carcass, fighting to get their share of the meat. Only these animals were fighting over who got the next hit. It can get pretty vicious in here. It would be wise if I didn't linger to long either.

I rummaged around the cupboards a bit, trying to find some form of food. Nothing. Like normal. So I tried the fridge. There were a few things in there, nothing edible and nothing I wanted to even touch. I slammed the door shut, scaring the other people and alerting them to my presence. They eyed me up and down, judging if I was worth going after. Along with their need to have that junk pumping through their system, it blinds them. They would do and act anyway they wished, just to get what they wanted. Not caring who they hurt, as long as their need is satisfied. The egg timer they had set dinged and they forget about me, turning back to administer the drugs. Their addiction screaming for attention. I hurried out of there as fast as I could before they changed their minds.

Glancing back into the living room, the bodies that were scattered around had moved slightly. My mom still passed out cold, did not move at all. I squinted trying to get a better look at her. I figured I had better go check just to make sure. Walking into the room, trying to avoid stepping on someone, I made my way over to my mothers limp form. Bending over her I lightly put my finger under her nose. There was a light flow of air passing, enough to let me know she was still alive. But barely judging by the flow of oxygen passing through her nose. I changed positions and felt her pulse. It was going fast. Her body still working on overtime, yet her mind a vegetable, not knowing or caring about the world and life around her. She opened her eyes a bit, the druggie haze clouding her. She didn't recognize me. She didn't know me. She got up and pushed me aside. Not even bothering to avoid the people all over the floor she stumbled out of the room and made her way into the kitchen. One guess what she was in there for. Years of this kind of treatment made me a stone. I didn't know how to cry anymore. Tears were a luxury I couldn't afford in my situation. These people feed off weakness. They can sense it. Sighing I looked over and saw something sticking out of the couch. Curiously I pulled it out and found my moms purse. Shaking my head I looked inside and sure enough I found all her money and stash not to well hidden in it. I took out most of the money and placed her wallet back into the couch. She would most likely wander back here again and not even miss the money that I took in her haze.

Shoving the money into my pocket I wandered out of the room and out the front door onto the street. It wasn't dark just yet. It was a different world out here from the one behind that door. Time had a presence out here. In the house, there was no such thing as time. Only the haze and when you could get your next fix. Everything in the drugs destroys you. It feeds your fears and takes you to this form of Hell masquerading as Utopia. I see it every time with my mother. When she hits that bottom she usually comes to me crying, begging for forgiveness and promising to get clean and stay clean. Its always an empty promise. She is a slave to that Hell. It owns her, and I hate it so much for taking my mother from me.

I walk away from the house, felling the cool summer breeze against my face. Relishing it. There is a calm that comes to me with every step I take away from that house. A freedom that only comes when I am away from all the poison that constantly surrounds me. Most people would think that growing up around drugs like the ones my mother did, I would end up the same route as her. In reality I would never touch the stuff because I have seen what it does to people that use it carelessly and excessively. There is no coming back from it. It holds onto you and sucks the life out of you until there is no life left to take. I don't want that for me. I have bigger and better plans for my life. I wont let myself be dragged down into Hell like my mother has.

I don't know how long I wandered for. I was to in my head to really realize what was going on around me. My stomach had been growling for a while now and I decided it was time to get something to eat. Looking around there were a bunch of places to go. Deciding on something fast, I walked into a deserted Subway. The girl at the counter looked at me funny. She was someone I went to school with. Because of my mothers rep, every one gives me these accusatory stares and glares. They are all convinced that I am going to go the same route as my mother. Convinced of it really. I didn't care what they thought. I would prove them wrong.

Walking up to the ordering counter, the girl asked me what she could get for me. There was only one thing I liked that they had here. I told her my order and pulled out a 20 dollar bill. Glancing at the clock I made a mental note to get up early and do the shopping tomorrow and make sure to have food ready when my mom decided to take a break from her drug haze and be a normal mom. For a couple hours at least. These breaks came few and far between. Kinda like holidays. You expect it to happen, but it only comes around once in a while. Almost something to look forward to. Almost.

The girl at the counter gave me my Sub and my change back. She was judging me still. I guess expecting me to steal something from the store so she could kick me out and be done with her day's work. I ignored her, like everyone else that tried to figure me out. That seems to bother them. Sitting down I start eating my Sub, gazing out into the street and watching the people walk by. Its interesting to watch people. How they hold themselves when they are alone or with a partner. I get bored and start making up random stories about Mr. and Mrs. Middle Class.

Feeling content and full for the first time in days, I get up and leave the store sweetly smiling at the counter girl, setting a confused look on her face. No doubt she would run to her friends in the morning and tell them about it and they would try and figure out what it is that I meant by the smile. They would get a kick out of the outrageous stories and eventually forget about me once again.

I walked and walked and walked some more. Not really heading any one direction, but avoiding going home as long as possible. The calmness and tranquillity I feel from getting away, leaves as I near my street and house. Anxiety pulls back in and I don't understand why it hurts so much to come home. Shouldn't this be the one place a kid feels safe going to? Instead my body is wracked with terror and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I know what lies within that house for me. Danger and possibly death. Up steps one, two, three, four. Porch 6 steps to door. With my key in my hand I go to open the door. I can hear the yelling. I hesitate and wait a few moments listening. It sounds like its coming from the living room. I hesitate again and decide that I can make a break for my room without being noticed by the others in the house. Trying to dart in the house as fast as possible and into my room, I run past the kitchen, over the bodies. The only obstacle left is getting past the archway into the living room. The voices get louder and louder with every pound of my heart. My breathing shallow, I approach the archway and take one deep breath in and exert every ounce of energy I have in me I dart across the expanse of the archway.

Suddenly everything is in slow motion. The other side, my safe haven is almost upon me and yet, I can't help but look into the living room as I'm running by. My mother is standing there having a yelling match with one of her "Friends". There were tools all thrown about. Now its generally a pig sty in here as it is, but it really looked like the living room was torn apart. They must have been looking for something. My guess is drugs gone missing. Its the only thing that these people get angry about. I saw my mother push the guy onto the couch threatening him. For some reason my legs stopped working as I watched the scene before me. I had no control over my own body. They kept getting closer and closer into my vision. I was in the room with them. The man looked stunned by my mothers aggressive force. He also didn't seem to like it very much. The next thing I knew, everything was in regular time again. He was up and off the couch in seconds, reaching behind his back and under his shirt. My mother didn't see the glint of the shiny, heavy metal gun that was now in his hand.

My legs started working on automatic.

There was no way I would make it in time. My mind was set on one target.

My mother. In the few seconds it took to reach her, I had all these flashes pass before my eyes. Memories of the past. Of a time when things weren't like this, or even a possibility. When my family was whole. Parks, swings, swimming lessons, soccer, riding a bike for the first time, going camping and sleeping under the stars, Friends... yes there was a time when I had friends. Good ones. And a best friend.

He was taking aim.

Then more memories flashed. My father dying. My mothers downward spiral. I stopped talking to my friends. It was safer that way for them. They didn't need to be dragged down into this world too. My solitude was the only thing that was mine.

He cocked the gun.

I remembered crying most nights wondering when this nightmare would be over. Those nights I prayed to whoever was listening to save me from the dark haze that surrounded my life. Second after second.

BANG!

More seconds pass.

There has to be enough time.

Breathe.

There is still screaming and yet I can't seem to make out what the screams are about. Everything just keeps getting brighter and brighter. I think I'm smiling, because for once, I feel at peace. Nothing bad can touch me now.

Flash.

I am not alone anymore...

the end.