Saturday, March 12
Today I started writing down what had happened with The Cut, because when I post these things on the Sanctum door, people can start to understand me. Understand me more than just a tempermental Mars adept who can be so cruel... so cruel.
I had posted up the story about Sheba and I. Partly as apology partly as a court testimony. And now to post this to show my hurt, the striving pain as if the knife had sliced my chest so deep.
I write, sitting here waiting for Garet to come. I don't want to wake him early on a saturday. And even if he is awake, he's probably sparring or talking to the people who sent him messages yesterday when he couldn't respond. And I want him to talk to them, so they don't get left out. Cause when my old friend had gotten a boyfriend and completly ignored me... Garet needs to talk to his other friends.
Not to mention, that way, next time they threaten to take me away... I don't want to be so important to lead him to the knife.
'It's ok, I wiped all the blood off!' I cringed again, that knife had hurt him and it was still around... but it was special, for all I know it could have been a gift from a now-dead relative. but still.
The blood.
The joy of his voice didn't help that phrase a bit- it was SICK.
I shuttered.
If only I could be there and just hold him... if I was light enough- small enough- I'd just cling to his back and he could have a normal day- he wouldn't even notice I was there. I don't want to be a distraction, I just want to hold him.
Where IS he... I should go to his house... but I don't want to interupt him in his own time.
But, but if we tried to come over, but that was when dad had locked the door for breakfast (the man's paranoid now)
I want to, but I don't want to be a burden... what if they have company, what if they're not home.
What if he's waiting for me and saying the same things?
March 14, Monday
I haven't seen the boy for days... maybe he doesn't want me there... Ew! No! That's horrible weak girly thinking! Ewwww! It's just PMS, that's the only reason I'm as happy as a rock right now.
He wrote a few short messages... He said Sheba came and said she felt depressed. She wasn't at school today, I just thought she was sick. He said he was trying to cheer her up- that was at 1824 (6:24 PM) ... it's 2037 now (8:37 PM.)
Now I'm really worried about Sheba... I'm hoping Garet helped her and now he's just off sparring or something... He said he had some work to do for his dad anyway... He quit school and now just trains to be the new Mayor after his dad... and his dad's none too happy with his progress which is one reason that drove Garet to... I shivered.
I've got to forget that.
But it Cut so deep... I haven't Cut myself for a long time, but now the pain he's left me... if so bad sometimes.
Is this how Karst felt when she was dying?
I laid down on my bed, small tears welling up. I buried my face in my elbow, sufficateing it in the pillow. Laying in the cold... she was pained by the one's she loved most... Menardi had killed herself in shame of defeat... And that had torn her little sister up so bad that she sought out the lighthouses in order to become more independent and strong? She died in the end... She just... I'm sorry if I confused someone... my philosophies are never understood by anyone.
Am I dying..? Is this the feeling those close to death get... I'd hate to die so miserable.
That tickles.
I looked in a mixture of horror and sick amusement... partially mezmorized by the feel and look and knowing of what was so close... my sharp fingernails following the trails of the blood veins... not enough to cut- but enough to sent shivers down the spine.
I should have been getting ready for the pyro display I was preforming tomorrow... I feel too gloomy to do anything now.
Garet told me not to be sad... I hate to lie... but... I don't want him to worry. But what am I supposed to say? No, I don't miss you a bit. I don't care about you or worry about you when you're not here.
I watched the sun while 2052 (8:52 PM) Ticked by.
"It's almost 2100." I whined. "What if he forgot about me..." Tears started to well back up again. "God, will I stop being so stupid feminine! God! He has a life too and I have to respect that"
'He has a life too...' I laughed at myself.
I have a life? really? I sit up here and cry in bed all day, what life do I have? I'm a moron, a fuckin weakling now... Maybe I'm letting myself get too feminine...
