Status: Believe me, my tiny little group of readers, I'm not giving this one up. Updates are going to start surfacing on a regular basis, just lemme get college application stuff out the way first. Kinda important. ::tehe:
The Technicolor Daydreamer; Folie A Deux.
Huit.
I've really got to start saving up for a car.
Flip. Flop. Squeak. Sqwawk.
Two pairs of feet, making their way down a two-mile sidewalk. Black and white low tops, white sneakers. Tannish-gray concrete. Two backpacks the size of boulders, filled with pointless homework.
It's almost always sunny here. Today is no exception.
I can feel my stomach churn from the cancerous rays hitting my skin.
It burns. Vampire jokes aside, it literally burns.
I shake it off and focus on my destination: home.
Hasn't the parasite taken enough? Vitamins. Nutrients. Blood. Strength.
And now, I can feel myself melt away, one sweat droplet at a time.
Painfully.
My breathing, strangled, labored, and rough, is a sort of low roar in my ears that melds with the surrounding sounds of lazy buzzing insects and dragged feet.
My thoughts help distract me, swirling intricately around the day's events.
Finally, we get to the weed-plagued, decomposing two-story house that's been standing 12 years. Little brother, older sister, standing side-by-side on the doorstep.
Ding-Dong.
The door opens, and i'm greeted by a face nearly as tired as my own. My younger sister's.
Drop the backpack, collapse on the couch, greet the dog.
Catch my breath, only to check the clock: 5:00.
One hour, 30 minutes.
Deal it out like cards: some for sweeping, some for vacuuming, some for dishes, some for rest.
Not much rest, to be honest. Playing mom and yelling for chores to get finished is sandwiched between all of the tasks.
Iron clothes, do homework, sort laundry, and finally...
Scrape up 8 measly minutes to get online and vent.
Then back downstairs to await an arrival, signaled by a manual lifting of our broken garage door.
The car engine starts off distant, then gets closer until it cuts off altogether.
Another garage door slam.
"Hey, y'all!"
Mom.
"Hey, Mom," I sigh, half-asleep.
"I brought dinner!"
Thank goodness.
One foot in front of the other, until i'm in the kitchen.
Dinner's full of laughs--and runs four hours long, lazily sprawled out in front of the TV together in the soon-to-be-broken air conditioning. It breaks down every year, of course.
Time for the meds.
4 bottles.
7 pills, 4 pills, 2 pills, one.
13 pills, 2 times a day. 14 pills once.
Green, tan, white, orange.
Round and oval.
40 pills a day.
With all said and done, I guess i'd better get to bed.
Flip. Flop. Squeak. Sqwawk.
Two pairs of feet, making their way down a two-mile sidewalk. Black and white low tops, white sneakers. Tannish-gray concrete. Two backpacks the size of boulders, filled with pointless homework.
It's almost always sunny here. Today is no exception.
I can feel my stomach churn from the cancerous rays hitting my skin.
It burns. Vampire jokes aside, it literally burns.
I shake it off and focus on my destination: home.
Hasn't the parasite taken enough? Vitamins. Nutrients. Blood. Strength.
And now, I can feel myself melt away, one sweat droplet at a time.
Painfully.
My breathing, strangled, labored, and rough, is a sort of low roar in my ears that melds with the surrounding sounds of lazy buzzing insects and dragged feet.
My thoughts help distract me, swirling intricately around the day's events.
Finally, we get to the weed-plagued, decomposing two-story house that's been standing 12 years. Little brother, older sister, standing side-by-side on the doorstep.
Ding-Dong.
The door opens, and i'm greeted by a face nearly as tired as my own. My younger sister's.
Drop the backpack, collapse on the couch, greet the dog.
Catch my breath, only to check the clock: 5:00.
One hour, 30 minutes.
Deal it out like cards: some for sweeping, some for vacuuming, some for dishes, some for rest.
Not much rest, to be honest. Playing mom and yelling for chores to get finished is sandwiched between all of the tasks.
Iron clothes, do homework, sort laundry, and finally...
Scrape up 8 measly minutes to get online and vent.
Then back downstairs to await an arrival, signaled by a manual lifting of our broken garage door.
The car engine starts off distant, then gets closer until it cuts off altogether.
Another garage door slam.
"Hey, y'all!"
Mom.
"Hey, Mom," I sigh, half-asleep.
"I brought dinner!"
Thank goodness.
One foot in front of the other, until i'm in the kitchen.
Dinner's full of laughs--and runs four hours long, lazily sprawled out in front of the TV together in the soon-to-be-broken air conditioning. It breaks down every year, of course.
Time for the meds.
4 bottles.
7 pills, 4 pills, 2 pills, one.
13 pills, 2 times a day. 14 pills once.
Green, tan, white, orange.
Round and oval.
40 pills a day.
With all said and done, I guess i'd better get to bed.
♠ ♠ ♠
Comments/Thoughts?<3