Compaired To This Hell Is Looking Good

The neighbors were nice. The house was nice. It was all fine and dandy. Not, so not. Everything was unpacked and put in it's place. I even arranged my room so that it looked close to how it did in Las Vegas. But it didn't work. Everything was wrong. The phone calls from Kali were weird and awkward. My parents looked at me as if I had 3 heads. When people talked to me I saw their lips moving but I didn't hear anything come out. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Thats what everything was.

***

I stepped into my room after dinner. I didn't like what I saw one bit. I saw Kali, Ryan, my old hangouts. All of it burned. As if I was mad at it for letting me move. Like I wanted it to come yelling at me and take me back to how everything used to be.

I walked up to my dresser where I had layed all my journals and notebooks. I threw them around the room. I went to my copy of our family picture. I threw that too, letting glass shatter on my new hardwood floor. I took the sheets off my bed and ripped them. I destroyed everything in sight taking out my dresser drawers and throwing the clothes everywhere.

***

By the time my parents got to my room it was to late. Everything in sight had been removed or ripped apart. My mother and father stared in horror and the mess I had created. I was sprawled out in the middle of the chaos. In glass, ripped up sheets, clothes, and journal papers.

***

When I woke up my room was the exact way I had left it. And wanted it to stay. I had taken out everything I had been keeping in my emotionless face. I didn't want to see those things, so I took control. I did something. I destroyed it. Know what? It felt good. No one had stopped me, yelled at me, or even said I was nuts. They let me do what needed to be done.

***

I stopped talking to Kali. When she called I never answered. I left my room, except for the glass, the way I had made it the first week. I didn't need to worry about avoiding Ryan because he never called much to my mothers pleasure. She had once tried to tell me that she was 'right, he didn't care and was no good for me'. But when I almost threw the coffee table at the wall she realized that was the wrong thing to say and hasn't tried repeating the incident. Everyone just stopped tring to get to me. And compared to this, hell is looking good.