Hatred surrounds Us
Why
Keeping my eyes wide on the lifeless body left on the stage, I fight the strong urge to vomit. I thought my parents loved me. There was no way in hell that they even slightly care. Forcing myself to look away, I look to floor trying my best to thing something new. Something more pleasant. Anything to take my mind away from the once sobbing girl, that now lay dead. Life so easily taken away from her.
The next hour moved by as if robotic. Following along in the group, time seemed to slow even more than just standing in the same spot. Room assignments, to being lead to the room in question. Everything seemed as if it was no longer real at all.
I had always believed I had a strong spirit, in the words of my father, but for once in my life I felt numb. My spirit it seemed was simply almost broken within being here for no longer than a hour. Almost completely broken by one girl dieing right before my eyes.
I sit on the cot like mattress that was now my bed, almost emotionless. Raising my gaze from the dull pattern of the linoleum floor, I glance around the room and notice for the first time I’m not alone. There on the other three cots sat three other, not looking much older or the same age as I am, each with emotionless expressions on their faces.
“Oh my God!” A voice escapes out of the girl in the corner as she begins to lose her breath suddenly. Then seems to be at a loss of air. Standing up, I rush to her side. We are all in this together. Each one of us in the same situation. Having panic and anxiety attacks myself, I quickly instruct her to try to breathe deeply.Walking quickly Running to my suitcase, searching my memory as quickly as possible trying my hardest to remember whether or not my paper bags were still located inside. Opening the front pocket and to my luck and to luck of the girl, I find them.
‘Breathe into this, it will help.” I speak softly with a sense of urgency in my voice. The girl quickly grasps the bag and place it to her mouth and places it to her mouth breathing inside. Slowly, but surely, her breathing returns back to normal.
“Thanks, that doesn’t happen very often. My name is Mitchelle, but you can call me Mitch.” She extends her hand towards me.
The next hour moved by as if robotic. Following along in the group, time seemed to slow even more than just standing in the same spot. Room assignments, to being lead to the room in question. Everything seemed as if it was no longer real at all.
I had always believed I had a strong spirit, in the words of my father, but for once in my life I felt numb. My spirit it seemed was simply almost broken within being here for no longer than a hour. Almost completely broken by one girl dieing right before my eyes.
I sit on the cot like mattress that was now my bed, almost emotionless. Raising my gaze from the dull pattern of the linoleum floor, I glance around the room and notice for the first time I’m not alone. There on the other three cots sat three other, not looking much older or the same age as I am, each with emotionless expressions on their faces.
“Oh my God!” A voice escapes out of the girl in the corner as she begins to lose her breath suddenly. Then seems to be at a loss of air. Standing up, I rush to her side. We are all in this together. Each one of us in the same situation. Having panic and anxiety attacks myself, I quickly instruct her to try to breathe deeply.Walking quickly Running to my suitcase, searching my memory as quickly as possible trying my hardest to remember whether or not my paper bags were still located inside. Opening the front pocket and to my luck and to luck of the girl, I find them.
‘Breathe into this, it will help.” I speak softly with a sense of urgency in my voice. The girl quickly grasps the bag and place it to her mouth and places it to her mouth breathing inside. Slowly, but surely, her breathing returns back to normal.
“Thanks, that doesn’t happen very often. My name is Mitchelle, but you can call me Mitch.” She extends her hand towards me.
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Here's the second chapter I promised!!![size=400]Happy Birthday to Brian Haner Jr.
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Character Pics
Mitchelle (Mitch) McAbrey
