Dark Thing: Hello.
Me: Hello.
Dark Thing: How are we doing today?
Me: I’m fine.
Dark Thing: Well, do you want me to fix that?
Me: Not really, but I know you are going to anyway.
Dark Thing: Don’t sound so cynical, Violet.
Me: Aren’t I always cynical?
Dark Thing: Only when I want you to be.
Me: Oh yeah, I forgot about that little detail.
Dark Thing: There you go again, always the one with the sarcastic comments.
Me: Piss off.
Dark Thing: Violet….
Me: Stop it.
Dark Thing: Hush now Darling, don’t you see this is all for your own good?
Me: I’m not listening to you.
Dark Thing: Oh, but you’re listening to me all the time, even when you don’t realize it.
Me: Go away.
Dark Thing: You see that knife over there Violet, the one with the shiny tip just pointy enough to cut into your flesh?
Me: Yes…
Dark Thing: You know you want to pick it up.
Me: No I don’t.
Dark Thing: Don’t you? Don’t you know it would feel nice if you just let the knife cut into your skin, not enough to kill yourself but enough to make you feel the pain?
Me: NO! I won’t! get out of my head and LEAVE ME ALONE.
Dark Thing: Roses are red, Violets are blue… Aren’t you blue, Violet? All sad because her daddy didn’t care enough to look after her, didn’t love her enough to leave her with a responsible babysitter who wouldn’t treat her like a play thing???
Me: STOP IT!!!!! I WON’T LISTEN ANYMORE!
Dark Thing: Hush now Violet, just pick up the knife and do it, I know you can.
Me: I can’t I won’t.
Dark Thing: Yes you will, just let your hand do all the work, there you go, pick it up.
Me: Please don’t, I don’t want to hurt, I don’t want to bleed!
Dark Thing: PICK UP THE KNIFE, VIOLET!
Me: I Can’t, I won’t!………………………………………………………………………………………
Alright, you win.
Dark Thing: Good girl.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Nothing Really Matters
People take everything in life for granted, and I mean everything.
I'm no different, I take my mother for granted, my stepdad, my brothers and sisters, my grades, my looks, eveything and anything you can think of.
I hate this about myself, it's one of the worst traits about me, and there are a lot of traits about me that I consider to be "the worst".
My parents decided to get a divorce today.
Well, it's not really my parents, since my stepdad is not my father, but he's been around way longer then my father ever was.
It's all my fault they're getting divorced. I yelled at him because he was hurting my sister, dragging her around by her arm and leg, and I had screeched bloddy murder at him to never touch her.
He called me "a little fucker".
Nice, right?
My mother was furious with him, saying that they were over and she didn't want to see him in the house when she came home tomorrow.
I guarantee he will still be here, and she won't care.
Nothing really mattesr. Not the fact that he hit my sister, because my sister loves him to much to care. Not the fact that he's handled me abusively too, because I was a "bad child" who deserved to be punished.
Talia's not old enough to understand that if someone hits you you shouldn't like them, you can love them, and she does love him, but you shouldn't like him.
She wouldn't let me hug her, she thinks their getting a divorce is my fault and didn't want to let me comfort her, even though I could already see the opal bruise forming on her upper arm.
I don't blame her, he's the only dad she's ever known, even if she doesn't call him dad, so it only makes sense that she wouldn't want him to leave.
I don't give a damn that he's leaving, I'm only shedding tears because I'm afraid my siblings will hate me more so then they already do.
But that doesn't matter.
I'm no different, I take my mother for granted, my stepdad, my brothers and sisters, my grades, my looks, eveything and anything you can think of.
I hate this about myself, it's one of the worst traits about me, and there are a lot of traits about me that I consider to be "the worst".
My parents decided to get a divorce today.
Well, it's not really my parents, since my stepdad is not my father, but he's been around way longer then my father ever was.
It's all my fault they're getting divorced. I yelled at him because he was hurting my sister, dragging her around by her arm and leg, and I had screeched bloddy murder at him to never touch her.
He called me "a little fucker".
Nice, right?
My mother was furious with him, saying that they were over and she didn't want to see him in the house when she came home tomorrow.
I guarantee he will still be here, and she won't care.
Nothing really mattesr. Not the fact that he hit my sister, because my sister loves him to much to care. Not the fact that he's handled me abusively too, because I was a "bad child" who deserved to be punished.
Talia's not old enough to understand that if someone hits you you shouldn't like them, you can love them, and she does love him, but you shouldn't like him.
She wouldn't let me hug her, she thinks their getting a divorce is my fault and didn't want to let me comfort her, even though I could already see the opal bruise forming on her upper arm.
I don't blame her, he's the only dad she's ever known, even if she doesn't call him dad, so it only makes sense that she wouldn't want him to leave.
I don't give a damn that he's leaving, I'm only shedding tears because I'm afraid my siblings will hate me more so then they already do.
But that doesn't matter.
Maybe I really am Crazy
I'm beginning to feel like I really might be going crazy, or more so then before I guess I should say.
I was going over things in my head today, trying to figure out why people think I'm weird, and I think I have finally come to a conclusion.
I'm a complete loon.
I'm a sixteen year old girl who hates going outside of her house and would rather people just let her be. I think it's amazing how reading just a few words on a page can take you away into another world entirely, letting you forget that in reality your really A pyscho with no life. I know I'm beautiful, and yet I'd rather the point not ever be made, in secreted whispers or in friendly compliments.
There's more reasons, but I stopped right there, because what teenage girl doesn't love to be told they're pretty if it's true?
Not any sane ones, that's for damn sure.
Some people may say that tellign yourself your beautiful is just being conceited, but I'm not just talking about on the inside, I know I'm a good person, and yet I doubt that all the time, day and night like a nagging fly that just won't leave me alone.
Maybe I really am crazy.
I was going over things in my head today, trying to figure out why people think I'm weird, and I think I have finally come to a conclusion.
I'm a complete loon.
I'm a sixteen year old girl who hates going outside of her house and would rather people just let her be. I think it's amazing how reading just a few words on a page can take you away into another world entirely, letting you forget that in reality your really A pyscho with no life. I know I'm beautiful, and yet I'd rather the point not ever be made, in secreted whispers or in friendly compliments.
There's more reasons, but I stopped right there, because what teenage girl doesn't love to be told they're pretty if it's true?
Not any sane ones, that's for damn sure.
Some people may say that tellign yourself your beautiful is just being conceited, but I'm not just talking about on the inside, I know I'm a good person, and yet I doubt that all the time, day and night like a nagging fly that just won't leave me alone.
Maybe I really am crazy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
