I could feel my breath, jagged and irregular, as I stumbled out of the school. The night had gotten colder and the air coming out of my mouth turned into white clouds upon contact with the chill.
I walked for what seemed like a half hour, not yet having decided a destination; just walking uptown aimlessly.
I turned into an alleyway, kicking a few trashcans over, wanting to hear the crashing sound as the came down upon the cement.
I picked up a beer bottle and cracked the head off against a building, running the jagged piece of glass against my arm.
I wanted pain! I wanted to sting and burn! I wanted to hurt so much I would forget that I had just lost every single friend I had in the world, by my own fault. Forget that in a matter of minutes I had become friendless.
I cut at my arm more, feeling a second of relief from reality as the glass sliced through my skin.
Though the pain died down with in seconds, leaving me to face reality once more and causing me to cut again and again until my arms no longer looked as if the belonged to me.
I wanted darkness. I wanted black. I wanted a fierce black. A black that hurt your eyes. I wanted it to comfort me with its pain, soothe me internally by hurting me externally.
I walked some more, feeling the bitter march wins whipping my skin as I walked from street to street, still set in no course what so ever.
Though my feet must have had a route for within the hour I was standing in front of my doorstep, gazing up at my apartment.
I checked my wristwatch as I stepped into the building; 11:24.
It was a Friday so my mum might still be up if she was sober.
God how I didn't want to see her. I wanted her to disappear so I could fume by myself with only the darkness to console me.
Quietly I dodged past the living room where my mum had fallen asleep in front of the TV, past my sister's room and into my room.
I slammed the door and whirled around widely.
It was too colorful. It gave me a headache and made me want pain even more so then I had before.
I rolled up the sleeve of my flannel shirt and saw the blood, drying out slowly along my arm.
My eyes skimmed my massacred arm to my hand and then my fingernails. The headache worsened and I got a sick feeling in my stomach. The sense of insecurity came back again.
My fingernails were too pale. They were to white and pink.
Slamming around my room, I searched for a black sharpie, popping the cap off recklessly and beginning to draw on my fingernails, covering every corner with the black toxic substance.
Next I went to my drawers and began to filter through them, pulling out every light colored t-shirt I had and dumping it into a pile on the floor. I pulled out my 2 pairs of blue straight leg jeans and threw them into the pile to join my t-shirts. Even my boxer's got separated; black from the other colors.
I stared into the pile of colors. T-shirts and hoodies, pants, shorts, boxers and long johns, everything of color I owned, in front of me. The colors beat down upon my skull, freezing my heart, chilling my bones.
I was soon overpowered by it all.
Impetuously, I threw open the window to the fire escape, ripping out the protective gate so that I would be able to fit through the window.
A cool breeze ruffled the window shades as I began to throw down article upon article of clothing, feeling the knot in my stomach loosen with every thing of color I disposed of.
I looked down from the fire escape, watching the last t-shirts float towards the ground from our 12th story apartment and lay lifelessly upon the cold sidewalk below.
The knot of anxiety released. A warm sensation appeared in my stomach.
I climbed back inside my room.
The walls. They were white.
I stared on, transfixed by the white-ness of my walls.
The knot in my chest appeared once again. The anxiety came back. My chest felt as if it was going to implode. The white had to go away. If it didn't someone was going to attack me, my mind was going to attack me, I could feel it. You couldn't hide behind white as you could with black and when my mind did attack I would be stuck in the open; the white would be my murderer.
I reached onto my desk, careful not to touch the white paint, and grabbed my wallet.
Down the fire escape I ran, up my block and into Duane Reid.
I felt the eyes of the cashier and workers upon me. What the hell was a 16 year old punk doing out at midnight? Hell they must have thought I was going to jack the place.
I raced widely through the isles, finally coming across what I was looking for; black spray paint. Into my arms went 5 bottles.
Back in my room, I stood, once again blinded by the colors.
Slowly I ripped off the top to the first bottle, shaking it up and down twice to get the juice going.
I began to spray my walls, starting off slow and getting faster and faster with every foot of white covered in black. I maneuvered the spray around my band posters, ripping down pictures of friends as I went along.
Down came a picture of me and Kayla and one of cowboy and of Rita and blink and spot and jade and fanny and molly and everyone else associated with them. I took special care to rip the picture of spot up into a billion pieces, flinging the bits of paper out the open window.
I continued to spray, finishing off the third bottle and starting in on the fourth. With each spray of the can the knot loosened in my chest, the vulnerability lifting. I began to become sane once more. I began to acquire a rationale.
I started in on my dresser and desk and window seat, making sure all traces of white were tainted with the black.
Thirty minutes later, I sat back and looked around my room; every trace of wall and wood was been covered with black, leaving my room tranquil and protected.
A little more calmly, I ruffled through the linen closet, finding a mismatched black comforter and gray sheet set.
Tearing off my red sheets and blanket I replaced them with the black ones, throwing the old ones down the fire escape to join my colorful clothing.
My mind felt free and clear, but not stoned clear…like awakened clear. Everything was much simpler and less confusing. No one was going to attack me.
I turned around surveying my completely black room once more.
Though my eyes, as they wondered around, soon fell upon my mirror. My reflection. It wasn't right and I knew that because once again that fucking knot appeared in my chest. My nails were black. My clothes were black for the most part. But my hair was brown. Like a crimson brown. Everyone had always told me I had such nice, brownish goldish hair but I didn't want nice, I wanted black.
Suddenly I felt nauseas, like I had with my pink nails. Like the brown-ness of my hair contaminated my head and mind. The brown began to beat down upon me; my fore head became hot and sweaty.
I stumbled into the bathroom, feeling the anxiety grow like it hadn't before. I felt vulnerable to the extreme, like some one could just come in the room and hack off my head because it wasn't black.
Through the cabinets I searched, pulling down endless amounts of cosmetics and toothbrushes, finally coming across an electric razor that used to belong to my dad.
I braced it against my head, feeling the hum penetrate my skull, though paused momentarily. Without any hair my head would just be white like my fingernails. Getting rid of it wouldn't make me feel any safer.
Frenetically, I stashed the razor back behind a bag of cotton balls, where I had found it, and darted back down the fire escape, grapping my wallet from where I had left it on the windowsill.
Jumping down the stairs, I ran crazily to the drug store for a second time that night.
As each second past I could feel my scalp getting sweatier, the brown-ness of my hair effecting my thoughts, making my head feel clammy and stultified.
Back up my fire escape I raced, my stomach turning with each step. The anxiety had come back stronger then ever. My instincts told me someone was going to attack my mind soon. With my hair brown, there would be no one to protect me.
Breathless, I began to run the shower, to fanatical to even think about the sound reaching my mum in the living room.
As the hot steam rose up and out of the shower I began to read the box of the black hair dye I had purchased.
Instructions: Rinse hair. Shampoo and condition if necessary. Rub walnut size amount of dye into hair. Let sit for 20 minutes. Rinse out thoroughly.
Easy enough.
I stripped and entered the boiling water, feeling like I had when I had cut my self with the bottle; the need for pain.
I didn't wince as the water hit me. I didn't cringe or flinch. I just closed my eyes and let myself burn.
Though, as before the pain soon vanished, leaving me scalded, the knot still in my chest; same as before.
Fucking pain, why'd it always have to fade?
I took the tube of black hair dye out of its enclosed box and squeezed a massive glob (certainly bigger then a walnut size) of the black gel into my hands. Instructions didn't know how much I needed black, how did they know a 'walnut size' would be black enough for me?
Rubbing my hands together, I began to weave the black gel into my long, almost shoulder length hair, watching it cling on to the long auburn locks, making my hair feel dry and stiff, as wet as it was from the shower.
Frantically, I covered every part of my head with the dye, desperately hoping I didn't leave an inch of brown hair untouched.
Finally content (although I had no mirror to make sure) I turned off the shower, feeling an incredible chill as the steam rose, leaving me naked and exposed to the crisp March air.
I could feel the black sinking into my skull, dyeing my mind black, going into my blood stream and dyeing it black as well. I willed the blackness to stretch as far as my heart, to dye it black along with everything else.
The knot finally began to unravel in my chest. I felt free. I felt exhilarated. I felt feelings I had never felt before. I felt clean and clear and elated and lucid. Like my eyes had finally opened all the way and I could see everything that had been hiding from my vision before.
The clamminess on my forehead slowly began to disappear along with the brown-ness in my hair.
I had achieved utter blackness.
there it is, hoped you liked (your probably thinking now 'thats the weirdest thing ever lolz') next ch will be up soon.REVEIW