Do you remember last night, when you fell asleep on the couch? You had been on the computer so long, I think it was about three o’clock when you decided to shut the laptop down and rest your head.
Well… You were paid a visit.
Actually, he’s always been there. You just kind of… Forgot about him. Left him behind, and grew up.
You see, in the shadow of the halls just a room down, your imaginary friend paid a visit.
I wrote this right after I woke up, and recorded everything I possibly could. Enjoy, if you care. I wrote it in short story rough-draft form. you take the place of my boyfriend.
Okay, so there was this girl in school who wasn’t very popular. Like one of those nerdy outsiders. For some reason she really liked me. It was almost like… almost like she worshiped me. I was kind, since she was a bit younger than me, and bonded a little with her. I talked to her about cartoon shows I liked; she’d be into them the next day. She even tried to dress like me.
The school was small, but the people in it were fine. Though, everyone was wondering why this one girl, Rachel, was out. She was so smart and pretty, never missing a day of school. She was one of those beautiful, determined, grade A+ girls. No one thought too much of it.
So I finally went to her house after a few more days had gone by, to hang outside of school. She was so happy about it. I mean, I know she had other friends who probably had come over before, but it seemed like her first time letting someone into her house.
The house was disgusting. It was like an episode of hoarders; Dirty clothes on every surface, even hanging off the TV. Her room was so small. It was like ten by five area, with a small bed and that TV I told you about. I think there was a table, too. There was also a strange blanket covering the corner of the room, right net to her bed. I shrugged it off, but thought it was weird how that pink blanket contrasted with the rest of the room’s tones of browns and grays, because of all the trash covering it.
Once she finally seemed to trust me enough, after playing some games and talking about nothing at all, she took me to the blanketed corner. I was confused for a moment, thinking maybe it was a fort or something innocent.
Until she pulled it off.
It’s that moment where you stand in the middle of your room, waiting for the footsteps to stop. It’s that time where your desperately using your ears, trying to figure out where everyone is. You feel jittery at this time.
Maybe you should wait until everyone is asleep. No one will stop you. It seems much safer and simpler.
You tense when someone calls out right outside your door. You’re jumpy.
Calm yourself, the call wasn’t to you.
Waiting seems like the only option. They’re all up and moving; waiting for you to finally come out of your bedroom. You’ve been haled up in there all day; they expect better of you, you know.
But you don’t want to meet their judging eyes. You don’t want them to stop you in your tracks, just by saying one word. Your name. You can always tell when they’re disappointed, that’s when they say the least, but showing the most. They don’t care to hide it.
Or maybe this time they’ll mock you. They’ll put on a slimy, joker-type grin, look you up and down and wait for some stuttering reply to “Oh, so you finally crawled out?”
You hate that. You feel weak and stupid, being unable to reply. It almost makes you angry. Wha type of question is that? What do they expect you to say? Was that some sick joke?
And when you don’t reply, their face changes. A stern brow, a judging glare. You know the look doesn’t mean too much, but you can feel it. The open wound they keep tearing back open, it multiplies that very look. They keep hurting you, and you keep letting them for god knows what reason. You have no choice? You somewhat do. You can’t pull that one on yourself. Not today.
But that is what you’re guessing will happen, because it has happened before. Many times. You begin to wonder how you delt with all of this verbal abuse for so long.
So there you are, cowering in your room. What courage do you muster to leave your room for food? Where is that last shred of courage you need to find, under all the bruises on your skin from being kicked when down?
Yes, they left a mark on you. Maybe it wont last for too long. Maybe that’s why you keep coming back. Maybe that’s why you keep relaxing around them, and think this time will be different.
But their eyes. That thought… That image. Them judging you, for doing nothing wrong. It doesn’t leave you.
Maybe you should just wait until they are all asleep.
You guys think my complaining is nothing. I have a list of semi-indie to completely unknown bands that I need to download. Some are just certain songs.
