I am a ghost. A spectre, a shadow. My existance is but a fleeting thing, it is only the absence of another embodiement. My considerations contain no weight, my interpretations have no meaning, my life has no journey to follow.
I am but half of what I was, and even less than that half am I now. I do not consider my consiousness an existence, merely a status of fact, a status that can and will be nullified. When, you ask? I do not know. All I know is that I cannot endure as I am.
I step through the shadows, through the memories of what people once had, I stand in their absence. I stand in the memory of what was, but no longer recalled; I am forgotten.
What has brought this about? The knowledge that I am, and always will be, completely worthless. And don't go throwing the blame on my mother either, she and I are getting along well enough now, it is her boyfriend that I am having problems with.
I don't mind being accused of things that I've actually -done-, like leaving the occasional cheese wrapper on the bench and whatnot. I know my room is a mess -- one of his main complaints that he, and I quote 'don't want to go in there for fear of something biting me' <-- a="" accuses="" alone="" am="" and="" aparantly="" as="" being="" br="" cat="" cruel="" do="" down="" five="" for="" he="" her="" him="" i="" in="" just="" kitten="" leave="" locked="" locking="" looked="" me="" meaning="" minutes="" mother="" my="" of="" offer="" on="" out="" patiently="" room="" s="" sat="" she="" since="" sitting="" tactile="" taking="" that="" the="" to="" tv="" up="" was="" watched="" while="" you="" your="">
....
Okay, great. Accusing a girl that sees a TV show in it's ENTIRETY that -she- chose to watch maybe once a MONTH, of sitting down and watching the news that more often than not she has no interest in!?
I have had enough. I was -this- close to bringing it to blows with him, and I'm not a violent person, not in that manner! I was -so- angry that I actually growled. Well, snarled would be a better word I suppose, like a dog would, the rumble in the throat and everything. I haven't been so bloody close to hitting someone since I was twelve. I almost couldn't control it, I had my hands fisted so tightly that I was actually hurting myself. So while mother tried to calm him down, I sat on my bed, tears streaming down my face as I snarled -- primal, primitive sound of pure rage -- I don't get angry, I get furious when people royally piss me off.
Only one other person annoyed me to that same extent, and he freaked out and ran when my eye's changed. They're usually blue, a nice, bright blue with green around the iris (a little bit, and it's only if you look closely that you can see it) but when i'm that pissed, they go purple. The angry, roiling purple of a thundercloud, complete with the swirling. That's what others have told me, I don't recall what actually happened, only that he ended up with a massive bruise and a fractured rib or three.
*sighs*
Come new years, I am out of here. I'll have to be anyways, since the majority of the uni campases are in Joondalup. About two hours drive from where I currently am.
I am but half of what I was, and even less than that half am I now. I do not consider my consiousness an existence, merely a status of fact, a status that can and will be nullified. When, you ask? I do not know. All I know is that I cannot endure as I am.
I step through the shadows, through the memories of what people once had, I stand in their absence. I stand in the memory of what was, but no longer recalled; I am forgotten.
What has brought this about? The knowledge that I am, and always will be, completely worthless. And don't go throwing the blame on my mother either, she and I are getting along well enough now, it is her boyfriend that I am having problems with.
I don't mind being accused of things that I've actually -done-, like leaving the occasional cheese wrapper on the bench and whatnot. I know my room is a mess -- one of his main complaints that he, and I quote 'don't want to go in there for fear of something biting me' <-- a="" accuses="" alone="" am="" and="" aparantly="" as="" being="" br="" cat="" cruel="" do="" down="" five="" for="" he="" her="" him="" i="" in="" just="" kitten="" leave="" locked="" locking="" looked="" me="" meaning="" minutes="" mother="" my="" of="" offer="" on="" out="" patiently="" room="" s="" sat="" she="" since="" sitting="" tactile="" taking="" that="" the="" to="" tv="" up="" was="" watched="" while="" you="" your="">
....
Okay, great. Accusing a girl that sees a TV show in it's ENTIRETY that -she- chose to watch maybe once a MONTH, of sitting down and watching the news that more often than not she has no interest in!?
I have had enough. I was -this- close to bringing it to blows with him, and I'm not a violent person, not in that manner! I was -so- angry that I actually growled. Well, snarled would be a better word I suppose, like a dog would, the rumble in the throat and everything. I haven't been so bloody close to hitting someone since I was twelve. I almost couldn't control it, I had my hands fisted so tightly that I was actually hurting myself. So while mother tried to calm him down, I sat on my bed, tears streaming down my face as I snarled -- primal, primitive sound of pure rage -- I don't get angry, I get furious when people royally piss me off.
Only one other person annoyed me to that same extent, and he freaked out and ran when my eye's changed. They're usually blue, a nice, bright blue with green around the iris (a little bit, and it's only if you look closely that you can see it) but when i'm that pissed, they go purple. The angry, roiling purple of a thundercloud, complete with the swirling. That's what others have told me, I don't recall what actually happened, only that he ended up with a massive bruise and a fractured rib or three.
*sighs*
Come new years, I am out of here. I'll have to be anyways, since the majority of the uni campases are in Joondalup. About two hours drive from where I currently am.
1 comment:
Terrifying, but well written. Angela, you have my sympathy. I don't know how one such as yourself can escape, but in a three months time, I hope you manage to.
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