I should be asleep. I can’t sleep. These socks are sweaty and gross.
GET THEM OFF!
much better
The blanket is worse. I don’t want to feel my feet touching. Come on. Come on. Stop stop. Don’t break your glasses.
What if I fall off the roof cleaning the gutters tomorrow?
I don’t want to sleep yet.
Why is my head itchy
Maybe I should shower now. It’s 12:54AM. Be smart. This is smart, my hair is gross and I’m not tired. Okay but if you shower now you’ll just stay up playing that fishing game.
And? It’s relaxing, isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing? Relaxing.
No you’re supposed to be preparing yourself for Monday. Let’s not talk about Monday. It’s okay. You’re okay.
Deep breath. Just stop. You’re still here. That’s huge. We are going to out live that son of a b**ch who used God to groom you. We are going to keep loving people the way we were raised. You don’t need the church. You just keep those chairs open at your table. I know you’re super controversial but hey, Jesus was pretty controversial too. Everyone hated him and hell who doesn’t hate the lesbian Christian (I’m the lesbian Christian) just a little. I really love who I am though. Truly I do. I love the idea of going to church on Sunday and coming home to my wife who I get to praise and thank everyday. How lucky am I to love women.
That’s my future. That’s why I’m still here. It’s going to be great.
I’m good. I’m okay.
——————————————————
Author’s Note: 1:30AM, just ate half a burger and a cookie. Goodnight yall
Finally, I’m going to be free. I’m going to be able to run without his chains dragging me back.
Soon I will speak of his manipulation and maybe he will pay the price rather than a slap on the wrist.
I will breath without him in the front of my mind. I will dance as a free woman. He took seven months of my life away from me. I’m going to take more. I’m ready to get dirt in my nails.
I’ve been growing my hair out and dressing like my mother so that I am no longer the young girl he groomed. Soon I’ll be able to braid my hair.
I just hope he gets what he deserves. I’m not asking for revenge. I’m telling you what happened. Do as you please.
——— Author’s Note: I’m sorry that this is short. It’s been a lot lately. I know this was kind of scattered. I’m exhausted even though I’ve been napping and resting for about three days.
Monday will bring change.
If I’d said no. If I’d just said no….
“So, do you go to school around here?” He pried.
“No,” I lie, pulling my jacket over my chest.
He was chipper. “You must go to school. You’re so young. You’re probably very mature for your age.”
I’d heard that phrase before. The last man to tell me I was mature for my age was more than twice my age and wanted me for inappropriate things.
**“Yeah, I go to school. Homeschool” I prolong my dishonesty. **
If only I’d told him my dad was tracking my location.
“So what are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for my…boyfriend”
“That’s a shame. I’d like to make you happy.”
—————
Author’s Note: so I’m cutting this story off. Rough morning.
Opposites attracting is the only logic to her blood in the snow. The contrast is art. I curse myself for not bringing my camera. Her warm red fluids scattered across the pillows of snow.
Her ribcage is completely exposed except for her intestines that are strung up through the ribs like Christmas lights entangled in a tree.
I sat in my homemade museum, admiring the wonder before me. What a gift. She’s made a sacrifice all for me; all for me to have this mosaic of bones, brain, and organ in the snow rather than tile.
I know this freezing silence will end and I’ll be executed for my art. Till then, I will memorize the ripped skin on her thigh, her doll-like glassy eyes, and her backwards foot that has protruding sharp bones at the ankle.
I remember her fear more than my pleads. I’d never seen someone genuinely afraid of books. It was as if she thought the pages would give her a fatal illness.
“You don’t understand. Why aren’t you listening to me! You’re in this too. Help me. You have to!” I begged, my hands shaking.
She shook her head in disbelief. I just needed her to understand. I picked up one of the books that I’d had hidden in the air conditioner vent.
“Hamlet. You remember reading this in grade school, right? You have to remember. Please Margret.” I flipped open the book and felt the faded pages fly.
I read in a panicked voice to Margret, desperate for some sign of remembrance. “There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies. That’s for thoughts.” I saw Margret relax just a bit.
She always had a soft spot for Ophelia. That’s why I married her. She was always so kind, my Margret.
I thought it wasn’t dangerous. Our interactions were all online. I didn’t imagine him as a real person.
This is real though.
I never knew I had ringing in my ears till now. I suppose I made an effort to never be in silence. I can hear my tongue clicking in my dry mouth.
Every time I think I hear someone coming down to the basement, my stomach tightens and I stop breathing.
I thought the stories of young women being lured could never happen to me. I thought I was some how an exception. I always knew deep down it wouldn’t take much to break my wrist and make me submit.
Don’t be like me. Be alert. If you think for a second that you might not be safe, find an older woman and call her mom. She’ll know what that means. Don’t tell yourself you are overreacting. It’s better to be careful than in this fucking basement.
Marx,
Hey. Everything is going to be okay. I know. I know you’re trying. Some people need a little more time. There’s nothing wrong with you.
I’m sorry for how poorly I treated you. You didn’t deserve to be put through that. You persevered.
Now Marx. Listen to me. Something is going to happen that will change your mind for years to come. Kids make mistakes. Yeah, you definitely knew better. It happens, that’s that. You learn. Everything is okay.
I love you and I’m so sorry I tortured you with the mistakes you make. Someone had to hold you accountable. I did what had to be done. You’re safe now. You’ll make many many more mistakes, but now you know, you can survive.
What if someone is standing outside my window waiting to see the light turn off through the blinds?
What if my teeth come out while I’m sleeping and I swallow them?
My mouth tastes disgusting-that’s what happens when you don’t brush your teeth.
Please go away.
I don’t think you understand how happy I would be if that…nevermind.
My teeth hurt.
If I solve this problem I’ll go away for a long time. So I’ll sit back and focus on my studies. If I take matters into my own hands I’ll lose everything permanently.
I want to make a whole scene of it. Because it IS a celebration. Oh how free I’d be. Would he leave my mind if he left the earth?
Or would he chose to haunt me?
I’d tourment him even if he were a ghost. Just like he screwed me over, I’ll make him spend my lifetime watching me dance around, free.
Maybe I could wear a pink dress then.
I prefer a tie for the most part.
I’m tired of being sad about it, I love when I’m unhinged about it. I don’t like being weak about it. I love imagining him getting what he deserves. I don’t even want to be around when it happens. I want to be states away, fishing.
I’ll read it in the newspaper and say, “hm. it’s about time.”
My fingers adjust on the wooden handle. My breath hitches but is hot.
I will not tolerate a life I do not deserve!
I won’t let you take it from me.
Nobody will care about your disappearance. They’ll say a quick, “oh, what a shame,” and move on.
Inconsiderate people take up space that’s needed. You’re a waste.
If you didn’t want the job, you shouldn’t have taken the fucking job.
Now people who didn’t ask to be treated like shit are paying because you’re a miserable person. Get a fucking hobby.
