A Match to Water

Wake Up I Know You Can Hear Me!

Laying on the ground I couldn’t tell if I was alive or on the verge of death. I felt alive, but I was in a corpses body. But of course, if I was dead who would really care? Parents? My ‘friends’? My relatives, oh I don’t even want to think about that.. No one would really care..at least that is what I thought. Looking over at my wrists I see the familiar red color coming out, but it was worse. Much worse. Feeling my eyes start to close of fatigue I let them fall, I’m tired...all I need is a little..rest.

The loud slamming of a door comes to my ears but I pay no attention, it was probably just the wind or my dad coming home not knowing his own strength and breaking the door. But that wasn’t on my mind right now. Rest. Thats all I need. A break. A time out. A chance to get away. Just a little time. One thing that came to my mind was that song. That song. I was absolute in love with that song, though I never really knew why. It was just that feeling inside that, made you feel connected. Yes. That song. Pierce the Veil, oh his voice is beautiful.. Just can calm me and make me fall asleep.

On the verge of life or death I feel like, I’m floating. Something is holding me. Either the arms of angels or demons I don’t know. Just I was floating. The grip around me gets tighter, it wasn’t flames or clouds that I was getting lowered into. It was softer than clouds. It was one of the best places. I obviously have been here at least once, or I wasn’t at all. Maybe in one of my dreams. In a daydream. I wasn’t sure. But whatever or whoever this was made me feel comfortable, something that I haven’t been able to have. 

I hear this low voice above right above me, it was sad, full of regret, and most of all wanting. Begging. Pleading. Screaming. Crying. 

“Wake up! I know you can hear me!”

/)[(>.<)](\

Jolting awake after one of those pure nightmares, the ones that seem so real, they feel real. They slowly seem to get worse, they get added on to, extended. Just ever take there time to make fun of me. Sitting up on my bed the black and white fleece blanket falls off to the floor. Oops. Grabbing my legs I feel the cold air attack me, like a pack of dogs with rabies going for a slab of meat. Resting against the wall I sigh looking over at my clock. 2:56am. Blah. Too early to get up, but to late to do anything. I hear a small ding and knowing that I check my phone, it’s just another notification. A frown comes to my face. I was hoping it would be my friend or at least I think we are friends. Well I guess I should define the definition of friend. A friend to me is someone I can talk to. Nothing really deep. Just those normal conversations.

Scratching my head I head out of my room and go downstairs. I think a hot drink will do good. Maybe something sour. Tea. That sour Gypsy tea, it is amazing. Getting into the kitchen I get a black coffee mug, hot water, and a tea bag. Easy? Easy. Taking a sip I just feel my inners get all warm and alive. Sitting down on the couch I sigh and put in a movie. Being my state of mind I put in a Disney movie. I know. Kiddish. But did I care what you or others think.

I put a classic. At least I call it a classic cause its the one that I never get bored of. Alice. Alice in Wonderland. It is such a cool movie. But I don’t go for the blond hair, to girly.. Same with that blue dress. But the Cheshire cat was pretty sweet, having that huge smile and can turn invisible. Like who wouldn’t want that? So the movie starts, I drink my tea. And right before the golfing with the Queen I find myself asleep with my tea gone and holding a pillow near my chest. Cuddling with it almost. Just not a person there.   

/)[(>.<)](\

Feeling a shake on my shoulder, along the soft voice of my mom I groan.

“15 more minute mum....” she laughs at my request. She walks away and I can hear the fridge opening and the hum of the stove top starting to heat up. My mom does so much for me. Unlike him. Ugh. I don’t even consider him at all. The dragging of feet gave me the clue that he was up. Great. The scent of cigars and heavy alcohol grow stronger. Seeing the dirty, wrinkled, plaid shirt that isn’t even buttoned straight. Then the face. My father. The ‘man’. I can’t even talk to him without having an argument with him later. Thats why I have given up on talking to him.