But something happened. I found myself a friend. That weird kid who stutters when she gets nervous, who gets called insensitive for reasons she can’t help herself, she found herself a friend. My friend was the first person I had a conversation with other than hello and what is your next class.
Tag: mental illness
But I can’t pretend to know her because I don’t, not even after all those years. So intimidation gets the best of me. I’m not her. I have no friends other than Cadence, if I can even call her that now. I’m vulnerable. I know I am in no position to challenge anyone. She has nothing to lose, but I do.
you know what they say during drills.
get under the desk, it’s safe.
well, I’m the desk,
stuck in the corner as the first wave hits,
the dishes and pots hit the ground,
my legs threaten to give way but not quite,
one person, then a group
one voice, then a cacophony
one blade, then a block of knives
all I had to do
was leave the car,
but my hands froze,
and my heart beat faster and faster
until terror rose above me
like a boat facing a threatening wave
until the wave capsized the boat,
and my breath stuck in my chest
the monster is awake.
it is a bad day.
it reaches inside my cage,
it starts clawing me,
I tell it to stop.
it replies back, you deserve it.
you are nothing,
you are pathetic,
you are despicable.
I open my mouth to scream,
but all that comes out is, I agree.
I Don’t Want to Be in the Dark
She turned around to face the silenced crowd with tears in her eyes, tears that Harlow spilled less than ten minutes ago. She wordlessly pointed at the speaker, which played ominously in the background, breaking through the atmosphere, which finally got the audience its owner yearned for.