AN: Writing, writing about something. Oh, why must I make such foolish
promises! Dost thou not see what despair you have caused me? What lengths
thou hast brought me to? Thy brazen hand has once again grasped my fair
throat, stifling me as you force me to create. Go, go now, or forever
listen to my silence. Where the f*ck did THAT come from?
We had been here for three months now. I was beyond bored. I was so weary of this secluded life, Riff had to keep all sharp objects away from me for fear I would use them on my wrists. He begged, bribed, blackmailed, and finally dragged out of bed each morning. I spent my days outside, staring at the birds that flew by, internally scoffing at their cheerfulness. There was almost no wildlife around, and I longed for days when heavy clouds would finally blank out the sun. I hated the sun.
Riff would come out late in the afternoon, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me back inside the house. I have no idea what Riff would do in the house all the hours I sat outside, sulking, perhaps he was planning something. Once I was inside, he would bath me, carefully washing and combing my hair, softly scrubbing by arms, legs, breasts, back and stomach, and I sat there, listless. I rarely ever spoke during these three months, especially during the daylight hours.
I would finally awaken to the world in the evening, as Riff and I lay in the bed. I loved Riff, and I was so thankful he was here with me. During these late hours, I would once again live, and be that which I once was (what a kick-ass sentence!!!!). But night would come, and with it, sleep, and, all too soon, the morning (five commas! Count 'em!).
And so I sat languidly one afternoon when they came. There were two of them, dressed in police uniforms, different from the guards whom we had grown to ignore. The entered the guards cabin, and stayed for many minutes. Though my interest had been peaked, I nevertheless stayed sitting, not bothering to get my brother.
After a while, they emerged, with our guards. They were walking toward me. I didn't move; simply stared back. Was this it? Had all of Riff's careful guarding against my suicidal tendencies been for naught (kick-ass word!)? My heart quickened, and a smile formed on my lips. I wouldn't have to stand boredom anymore! One of the police turned to speak to a guard, and as he did so, reached for his holster, bringing out his weapon. The guard nodded. He aimed it at me, and then the burning came over me...
We had been here for three months now. I was beyond bored. I was so weary of this secluded life, Riff had to keep all sharp objects away from me for fear I would use them on my wrists. He begged, bribed, blackmailed, and finally dragged out of bed each morning. I spent my days outside, staring at the birds that flew by, internally scoffing at their cheerfulness. There was almost no wildlife around, and I longed for days when heavy clouds would finally blank out the sun. I hated the sun.
Riff would come out late in the afternoon, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me back inside the house. I have no idea what Riff would do in the house all the hours I sat outside, sulking, perhaps he was planning something. Once I was inside, he would bath me, carefully washing and combing my hair, softly scrubbing by arms, legs, breasts, back and stomach, and I sat there, listless. I rarely ever spoke during these three months, especially during the daylight hours.
I would finally awaken to the world in the evening, as Riff and I lay in the bed. I loved Riff, and I was so thankful he was here with me. During these late hours, I would once again live, and be that which I once was (what a kick-ass sentence!!!!). But night would come, and with it, sleep, and, all too soon, the morning (five commas! Count 'em!).
And so I sat languidly one afternoon when they came. There were two of them, dressed in police uniforms, different from the guards whom we had grown to ignore. The entered the guards cabin, and stayed for many minutes. Though my interest had been peaked, I nevertheless stayed sitting, not bothering to get my brother.
After a while, they emerged, with our guards. They were walking toward me. I didn't move; simply stared back. Was this it? Had all of Riff's careful guarding against my suicidal tendencies been for naught (kick-ass word!)? My heart quickened, and a smile formed on my lips. I wouldn't have to stand boredom anymore! One of the police turned to speak to a guard, and as he did so, reached for his holster, bringing out his weapon. The guard nodded. He aimed it at me, and then the burning came over me...