Day three: waking up in isolation

21st July 2009


The bed was hard against my back. It was dark in the room, the way I liked it at 4:00am. I rolled onto my side, trying desperately to get comfortable. No use. It was without a doubt, the most odd bed I had ever managed to retrieve. Usually it was comfortable, but every few days it would become an aching experience for the user to curse.

It seemed like the days were fleeting past me, sliding throung my fingers before I could properly grasp them. I was soon to be sixteen; an older and wiser teenager living in a bombshell of a town. Granted, it was somewhere to live. It wouldn't have been called a nice place to live, but certainly somewhere.

I removed myself from my bed heavily, remembering that my restless evening before once again put me in a full set of clothes. It didn't shock me like the first time. Now it was just a habit, something to get used to.

I removed most of my clothes until I was in only a t-shirt and underwear. I made it back onto the bed in seconds, landing with a bounce. My head nestled into the pillow as I pulled the covers over me.

The next thing that happened was happening quite regularly, perhaps something to do with my conscience.

I pulled my pillow length-ways next to me and hugged it, holding it tightly to my chest. Perhaps it was my loneliness; perhaps it was because I didn't see a chance with a human, so instead I imagined a pillow. I wasn't too sure, but after an hour of talking to myself, I was pretty sure it was something to do with my conscience conselling me.

I didn't take pride in it when my brain truly came to terms with what was happening. Instead I tucked it back under my head and lay in silence for another hour or so.

I heard my father get up to get ready for work. I don't call him my dad simply because he doesn't act like it. He's a father figure, but he never spends time with me, so I guess I just gave up with him. His child was his work and his motors.

My mum was next to get up. Although she was pleasant when she was getting her way, she truly was a guilt trip when she didn't. If you ever got on the wrong side of my mum, she would first try to fend for herself, then she will use the guilt to weigh you down. I didn't get into fights with her now.

If I wanted to do something, I would check with them. If they said no, I would let my conscience decide the best plan of action.

I seemed to slip into sleep after those few minutes, though still keeping my ears concentrated on their movements, until they were out the door. I didn't trust them whilst they weren't asleep. Not because of anything sexual, hell no. Instead because they would salvage my room for anything I shouldn't have. This was of course the reason why I saw fit to hide my belongings in a place they would never find it.

Then again, I can no longer get it either. I no longer go to school.

The computer seemed to beckon me, vampirefreaks in particular seemed to pop into my head. My choice was still there. I was going inactive on VF so I could "set my head straight." Actually the real reason was because my parents ordered me not to go on there. I requested the ability to go on my group on there. They had little choice but to accept.

I suppose my parents were still aching from the fight we had over who I loved. They didn't trust a girl older then me. Okay fair enough, she's five years older then me. I see it as a number, not a blockade. My parents excuse, "There are bad people on the streets nowadays. It's not safe."

My parents don't talk to me about it now. They know I will retalliate with more fury then my dad could ever present. He usually punched things; walls, doors, cupboards, ya know. He tried to intimidate his opponents.

He doesn't intimidate me anymore. He's just a child with a temper.

The End

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