Untitled - The Writers Book

4. The-Changeling

I am tired of this house, I was tired of having to eat the same Chinese food every night, I was dying if I was being really honest. I heard a tick-tick from behind me as I slowly closed the laptop I was going to watch Netflix on. Stupid... I have no wi-fi.

Gripping the moth-ridden blanket that sits beside me, I curl up on my bed with its iron mantle. I look outside and see stars, speckled like sugar on a dark marble counter top.

I sigh and pull the covers of my bed over my head and clutch my blanket close to my chest. Looking up at the picture of my mum that sits on my night stand I fall into a deep sleep and wonder what the next day will bring. Sadly my sleep is not as deep as I predicted it to be.

  I see my mother laughing in front of me. I see blood spew from her mouth like someone hit her head. I see her fall and I feel myself scream. I feel the warm, yet wet feeling of the metallic liquid on my face.

When I wake it's not to a brand ne.w day, but to a bloody sun and a harsh memory I refuse to remember. I won't... I can't remember it. No matter what. I must stay strong.

But that sky is so red and I am so cold. I feel the feeling of emptiness, lonliness and hatred fill my body and my lungs until I want to scream. I want to grab a rose and push its thorns into my palm.

I jump out of my bed and sit on my window sill and watch as my bloody sun raises, like someone had slit a neck or wrist and put it on top of a mountain to make it bleed.

But blood isn't the only thing going though my head. Because I'm back, I wonder again what drove my mother to madness as another gruesome memory fills all my thoughts and muscles.

  I'm laughing in a boat with my mother paddling, the water was so soothing. But we didn't take into account how ruthless the water could be-

  No! I warn myself, You can't go back down that path. Not again. Not today. Not ever! You need forget her! You need to forget her face...

  I know I cannot, no matter how hard I try to push her back into my brain, or from my thoughts into the sky where they can rot for all I care.

Nothing could stop cascading memories. I knew that, I would always know that. First my mother and then- and then... her. And I know everything is my fault.

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Yo! This is Gray! I hope everyone is liking the story and I hope my part makes sense. Now I'm not exactly sure how all of this works but that you for reading! Goodbye!

~Grey (The-Changeling) XOX