Insomniacs (#1)

1. wilting

How does one become numb to death? To grief?

Do tell. I've required an antidote since the tender age of 14.

I don't think I'm damaged, broken, a lost soul, as they would say. I think I'm simply more revealed to the cruelty that we shelter ourselves from.

The cruelty we tend to ignore and take pleasantry in cowering under until it makes itself apparent. In my case it took a minivan, Flynn Rider, amiodarone and too many gravestones for my liking. Apologies for the crypticness but a little mystery would make for a good tale, no?

I do wish that my tale was one of love and felicity, bliss and thrill but thankfully, I took the hint after several warnings and learnt to stop wishing for such things. Something like that but of course, a few things threw a wrench in those plans of mine.

We're gonna have to reverse a little in order for you to get the whole picture.

October of my seventeenth year of living. Autumnal months have always been my type of months. I don't necessarily thrive in sunshine when my wardrobe entirely consists of hoodies three sizes too big for me and I have a tinkle of seasonal depression. Fucking fun.

Browned leaves, pelting rain, dreary skies. Much prettier than the blandness of blue skies and allergies, wasps and not being able to walk under the rain.

So there I stood, under the shelter of my porch in the beginnings of a storm. Smoke slithered down my neck as I parted my lips in allowance, flicking my cigarette so the ash would fall to the ground.

I relished in the burning of my throat, the probable damage of my lungs but more so, the ability to finally wake up a little. I'd smoked since I was fifteen and haven't mustered the courage to stop since. Rain thrashed down on the tarmac in front of me, creating a flurry of steam once it collided with the ground.

The door clicked open behind me and out came mum, an umbrella in hand and her formal lawyer outfit as pristine as always. She pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head.

"Don't come home late, darl. And lock up for me." She flashed me her warm smile and I nodded, turning to lock the door behind us.

"Oh- and," she pivoted on one of her heels as she got down the porch steps, umbrella already sheltering her head, "I know you were out last night. You're not slick." She raised an eyebrow.

"I beg to differ." I jutted out a shoulder as I tilted my head back to blow out the smoke.

"Uh huh. Where did you go?" She narrowed her eyes but a small smile split her lips as she looked up to me.

"Neverland." I whispered with wide eyes and her face dropped into a flat expression, "Why the face? I could take you if you'd like. Peter pan would be fond of you." I added seriously and she waved my antics off, turning around and walking to her car.

"Love you." She called out.
"Love you." I called back as she shut the door to her car.

It's only mum and I. Dear old daddy ran as fast as his legs could take him once a baby bump appeared. I mean, I don't think I'm that intimidating but I assume he thought differently.

I like to think that he scurried away because upon seeing my beauty, he would've been too enamoured to leave. Its a thought that makes me smile. A little less fucking miserable.