Babylon (Le lit est froid)

Scratch that itch, bitch.

(KG)


You won't freaking believe this. I'm sitting in a circle, on these infant seats, and this old cunt actually comes up to me and tells me to link my hands with her and pray. Biting back the mean remark I felt burning the tip of my tongue, I just glared at her and she huffed back at me. Mean bitch.

"Ok, everyone, time to show what you've written in your diaries!" The group leader, aka the old cunt, excitedly announced, clasping her hands in anticipation. I swear her eyes.. sparkled.

"Isn't that defeating the purpose of having a diary? Why should we vomit everything we've written? It's a diary. It's private." I bit.

Ursula (Satan's Queen) narrowed her eyes at me. It was clear to the both of us that neither could stand the other, however she had to keep up the front of loving all her "people" equally. Who the fuck did she think she was? Jesus? We'll you're missing a beard and a dick, bitch.

"Kenton, you go first." She seethed.

"It's Kent." I corrected and made no move to stand up. Instead, I just crossed my legs and leaned back on my chair, looking at the ceiling of the church. I saw Jesus' face staring right at me, understanding yet demanding in a certain way. It seemed to stare right through me, actually stirring around the sins that were my life. I took my eyes off the ceiling and concentrated on the painted windows of the church. Sunlight could still be seen through them, even though it was close to sunset.

"Nobody cares." I heard an ass add. I instantly knew who that was. A certain brunette, green-eyed frilly boy.

"Sorry, don't speak douche. Wanna repeat?" I retorted.

"Get over yourself, man." He said.

"Nope, didn't get anything. Try to get your head a bit more out of your as-"

"Kenton, now, please." She spit and I shook my shoulders, feeling my pockets while standing up.

Everyone looked at me, as I felt both the front pockets of my shirt and my jeans. I then turned around, and grabbed my ass right in front of Satan's Queen.

"Kenton!" She raged. I just shook my shoulders as I rearranged my clothes and beanie on my head.

"Sorry, Urs, can't reach. Could you pull it out for me?" I questioned, waggling my ass in front of her. She gasped, but still grabbed the diary out of the back of my jeans as quick and with as little fingers as she could.

"For God's sakes." She mumbled angrily as she shoved it to me.

"Ah ah ah! We're in a Church, Mrs. U." I wiggled my finger and she bit her lip, giving me the meanest eye.

"Ma'am, want me to shut him up?" Jude Rose, the town's popular boy, offered.

"And how would you suggest I read, Flower Boy?" I quipped. Quite frankly, I was tired of him showing his preppy face at every meeting. With his crisp white polo shirts, short khakis and loafers and pink sweater wrapped around his neck. Man, how I wanted to grab that sweatshirt and just pull on it a bit, until he had difficulty breathing.

I never even got why he was here in the first place. This effeminate guy had a family. Admittedly, his father was a jackass who tried to push him to get even better at football, but he was still captain and that counted for something. His mother, on the other hand, had his back and helped through any difficult situation. I've seen him at games. Or used to, at least. His father comes up, critiques every move he's made and tells him ways to improve himself, then leaves to talk to the coach. His mom then goes to him and congratulates him and says sweet things, but he just shoves her aside, preferring to please his father instead of the being who fucking shat this asshole.

"May 22nd 2011. 11:23 AM. Hi." I proudly read. I looked at everyone, and they all waited eagerly for me to continue. I laughed and closed the small notebook. "That's it, ma'am."

"Horrible. Jude, you're next, honey." She beamed. I made a vomiting noise and she turned to glare at me, as did Rosie there.

"Ugh! Could we just skip him? I don't wanna hear what new shirt he's bought and about how oh my gosh it was marked down!" I announced. Jude flipped me off, and I made a dramatic gasping noise. Old cunt snapped her head in his direction and caught him just as he tried to hide his hand behind his back.

"Jude! Kenton! Cleaning duty tonight!" She shrilled and I shook my shoulders. Big deal. Gotten way worse. Actually, she was doing me a favor. I didn't have to go home early tonight. "I don't know how you've gotten from Captain of the football team to a delinquent with a parole officer!" She yelled.

"Shit happens." I said simply and ended it at that.

✺✺✺✺♡✺✺✺✺✺


(LF)


My mother was never one to look after the family. Not unless all the problems have been cleared off.

When both my aunts got cancer, we all thought it was a horrible thing. But it wasn't a tragedy for me. I had never been close to any of them, so the possibility of life without them did not seem such a far-fetched idea.

But she made it out to be far bigger than it really was. She spent every moment constantly at their side, that is when she wasn't at work or at home cooking a simple meal. She arrived home later, exhausted and angrier. I, in turn, started to be angrier at her and at my cousins, who were almost 30. They could handle their selves. They never helped my mother, never thanked her for helping them graduate from College. They were insensitive, only looking after their own hide.

God! I am so mad at them!

And what makes it worse is that I've got no one to turn to or to save me from this emotional roller-coaster.

No one.
♠ ♠ ♠
"When the waking comes I know I feel alive, you will be the last thing on my mind. No regrets, do you know what that means?"
- Calvin Harris