Observations, Experience, Arguments...Something More?
1. Cricks and Lights
Don’t hurt the future. Don’t haunt the past.. Rung though my head, beating at it constantly; I didn’t know what it meant. All I know is that it never left. I lie in my bed thinking of the words, it was there subconsciously, the words flicker like a burnt out sign.
I looked up at my ceiling. Watching the fan spin around and around, it took my mind slightly; but not all (no madder how much I’d wish)
My TV was turned off it didn’t keep me entertained like it would any normal human.
I sat up on my bed looking through the darkness; I kicked my legs off the bed and began my journey to my door. I grabbed the doorknob twisting it lightly, I walked through the door and began down the stairs—I saw a light coming through the darkness. I slowly walked down the stairs and stepped into my kitchen. The lights were on, I remembered turning them off; I do every night. It’s the same thing every night…I turn the light off before I go to bed, I get up walk down the stairs the lights on. It’s been going on for a week. I haven’t thought about it that much. Maybe something to do with the electric company or something, I walked over to the fridge to get some fruit punch. I went to the cabinet to get a glace, I held it to my face a little to see if it had a stain, as I analyzed it, I stood cold and frozen; I caught a glimpse in my glass. I saw black hair and the palest face, deadly dark eyes.
I spun around but saw nothing. I couldn’t understand it. That’s never happened—the lights on yea but-but this is insane! I was almost coming to the scenes that my house was haunted.
But could that be true? I mean ghost doesn’t seem like the right theory here.
It’s the only theory I actually got right now, robbers don’t break in your house to turn the lights on. If they did they could sure leave me money.
I actually laughed at that though. leave me money I’m too poor they’d probably just see from the house, and fruit in the fridge. Ha. I quit thinking about it, and poured my punch in the glass, I drank it slowly, I took it from my lips and let out a “Ahh” I put the glass down in the sink and left and went to go back upstairs. I opened my door and went to the foot of my bed. I stopped when I saw that my curtains were open; I knew I didn’t leave them open…
I didn’t think about it either. I needed sleep I know I did I wasn’t thinking right. It’s funny what sleep does to you ain’t it? I went back to my bed and laid on it, pulling the covers up to my head. Hope I was feeling okay, I know I didn’t have a fever. I would be sweating anyway if I did. I just kicked back and let sleep (somehow) take over.
I lay in bed still, not able to sleep. No matter how hard I tried. I was almost considering sleeping pills, but if I did; the house could catch fire and where would I be? Asleep. I put my hands behind my head, my eyes still open—looking at the darkness. The darkness was good, but.
Sometimes I felt lonely. But it never left my mind, I hardly remember what happened when I was a child, I just remember everything since I was seventeen. That’s not much of a memory. But that doesn’t follow-up on how those words haunt my every damn day life. I don’t even know if I ever had a boyfriend, I don’t know if I even had sex, no memories of the past.
Friends—family. Anything! No I wasn’t alone (I live in my house alone.) but I had one
Friend, his names John. He’s been there with me since…I was seventeen.
He had the best personality. A friendly smile; some awesome hair!
He taught me how to control my hair (as he said it). He had brown eyes, and had the since of style. He didn’t get me into the dark clothing. And almost Goth Sense . he introduced me to H.I.M. a band that is amazing. I love to give (gibe) fine details about John, he was a beautiful—handsome man, but he never caught my eye. A lot of guys don’t catch my eye, some yes. Maybe but not enough to date though—
I heard a crick while I was thinking, this house creeks a lot! But this, this was a loud crick, then it brought me back to something. I have never cried. Well not since my memory puked itself away. But I had nothing to cry to. I suppose my like just revolves around…nothing.
”Your life is meant living, you’ll find something to keep going.”
I raised my body. “Where the hell did that come from?”
I never got an answer.
I started to whisper to myself.
“There’s sadness in London Town,”
I looked up at my ceiling. Watching the fan spin around and around, it took my mind slightly; but not all (no madder how much I’d wish)
My TV was turned off it didn’t keep me entertained like it would any normal human.
I sat up on my bed looking through the darkness; I kicked my legs off the bed and began my journey to my door. I grabbed the doorknob twisting it lightly, I walked through the door and began down the stairs—I saw a light coming through the darkness. I slowly walked down the stairs and stepped into my kitchen. The lights were on, I remembered turning them off; I do every night. It’s the same thing every night…I turn the light off before I go to bed, I get up walk down the stairs the lights on. It’s been going on for a week. I haven’t thought about it that much. Maybe something to do with the electric company or something, I walked over to the fridge to get some fruit punch. I went to the cabinet to get a glace, I held it to my face a little to see if it had a stain, as I analyzed it, I stood cold and frozen; I caught a glimpse in my glass. I saw black hair and the palest face, deadly dark eyes.
I spun around but saw nothing. I couldn’t understand it. That’s never happened—the lights on yea but-but this is insane! I was almost coming to the scenes that my house was haunted.
But could that be true? I mean ghost doesn’t seem like the right theory here.
It’s the only theory I actually got right now, robbers don’t break in your house to turn the lights on. If they did they could sure leave me money.
I actually laughed at that though. leave me money I’m too poor they’d probably just see from the house, and fruit in the fridge. Ha. I quit thinking about it, and poured my punch in the glass, I drank it slowly, I took it from my lips and let out a “Ahh” I put the glass down in the sink and left and went to go back upstairs. I opened my door and went to the foot of my bed. I stopped when I saw that my curtains were open; I knew I didn’t leave them open…
I didn’t think about it either. I needed sleep I know I did I wasn’t thinking right. It’s funny what sleep does to you ain’t it? I went back to my bed and laid on it, pulling the covers up to my head. Hope I was feeling okay, I know I didn’t have a fever. I would be sweating anyway if I did. I just kicked back and let sleep (somehow) take over.
I lay in bed still, not able to sleep. No matter how hard I tried. I was almost considering sleeping pills, but if I did; the house could catch fire and where would I be? Asleep. I put my hands behind my head, my eyes still open—looking at the darkness. The darkness was good, but.
Sometimes I felt lonely. But it never left my mind, I hardly remember what happened when I was a child, I just remember everything since I was seventeen. That’s not much of a memory. But that doesn’t follow-up on how those words haunt my every damn day life. I don’t even know if I ever had a boyfriend, I don’t know if I even had sex, no memories of the past.
Friends—family. Anything! No I wasn’t alone (I live in my house alone.) but I had one
Friend, his names John. He’s been there with me since…I was seventeen.
He had the best personality. A friendly smile; some awesome hair!
He taught me how to control my hair (as he said it). He had brown eyes, and had the since of style. He didn’t get me into the dark clothing. And almost Goth Sense . he introduced me to H.I.M. a band that is amazing. I love to give (gibe) fine details about John, he was a beautiful—handsome man, but he never caught my eye. A lot of guys don’t catch my eye, some yes. Maybe but not enough to date though—
I heard a crick while I was thinking, this house creeks a lot! But this, this was a loud crick, then it brought me back to something. I have never cried. Well not since my memory puked itself away. But I had nothing to cry to. I suppose my like just revolves around…nothing.
”Your life is meant living, you’ll find something to keep going.”
I raised my body. “Where the hell did that come from?”
I never got an answer.
I started to whisper to myself.
“There’s sadness in London Town,”