Storm

Rewrite of an old story. Every past has moments of darkness. This is one of mine.

Thunder cracked loudly outside her window. 

The storm was right overhead. 

Cheek pressed against the window, she sat. Her knees pulled tightly into her chest. As music pounded through her headphones she sighed. 

She could feel herself slipping. These were the worst times. 

Here she sat. Alone in this semi darkened room, cold and desperate for something to happen. A reason to get up, a reason to change out of the sweatpants she’d been wearing for the past two days. But none came. The very thought of standing up made her want to cringe, but even that proved too much effort. 

There she sat.  Expressionless.  Motionless. An occasional sigh escaped her as she watched the droplets of water cling to her bedroom window. She hated these days. Her body was so numb but her mind was racing. It didn’t seem possible that she could think with such energy when she couldn’t muster enough to click next on her Ipod.   Frustration.

 With a huge push of energy she let herself fall back on the large bed that lay beneath her. Staring blankly at the ceiling she contemplated the idea of sinking into it. What if the mattress just sucked her right through the bottom of the floor and into the earth? 

How appealing the fantasy seemed. 

A lump began to harden in her chest. The want to cry was so strong, but she was too numb for the tears to fall. Emptiness. She thought about pealing herself off her bed to return to her dreadful old habits. The razor never seemed quite so enticing and was only growing more so as the hours passed. 

She hated doing it. 

She hated herself for doing it. 

“Clichéd attention starved teenage girl, full of angst and desperately seeking someone to ask if she’s ok” that’s what they all said. But the pain is better than the numb. 

How foolish she felt after every slit. 

How ashamed. 

How unbelievably alone she was in her bed of self-loathing.

A soft knock pulled her out of her thoughts. She didn’t answer, instead rolling onto her side, she faced the wall. The door opened and a gentle hand was on her shoulder. A warm voice told her it was time for dinner while she feigned sleep. Accompanied by a gentle shake, the announcement came again, but she couldn’t respond. She just didn’t have it in her. The warmth of the hand faded all at once as she heard the door close. She opened her eyes. Tears began to well in the their corners and she swallowed hard to push it all back down. She had wanted the owner of the voice to lie down next to her and stroke her hair. She wanted to be picked up and hugged until all of the pain and misery disappeared. Staring at the blank wall in front of her she heaved a great sigh. Wondering if this was the life she was to be trapped in forever. 

Reviews

[Relic]

The girl you describe here sounds like she's not only depressed but introverted and withdrawn as well as fatigued from an uneventful life of unhappiness and indecision. Now she's lost in isolation and desparate for assurance and love. I know I had similar feelings when was young with the exception of cutting which I've never even thought about.

You've done a nice job of describing the scene in a way we can imagine and empathize with. The fact that you put her in a scene next to a window dripping with rain adds to the dreary internal mood of the story.

You wrote this well for a first posting. Nice writing.

[Vic]

You captured the scene well. It was at once emotional and cold. To feel what's left when there is nothing left to feel. The frustration of not being able to hit "next" on the ipod was a good touch

[Warrior]

Great story telling. This did justice in the realm of getting the message across. Great message. There's lot of times where a story can have a great message to aim for, and have a lot of under lining things but then no one gets it, and if no one gets it, then the point has failed. But in my opinion this did well to get the message across. You made it clear, which is why I think it's good. Keep up the good work. What was also great was that I could imagine the story as I read it, and that is also a strong point of stories. The ability to have the reader imagine it because after all we're reading not watching it, but it was as if I was there as I read this, and that is great. Good job once again.

[SierraT]

Very well written. You can feel her pain, her self loathing and depression. The whole piece creates this really somber mood. Very well done. Was hoping you could read a chapter from my book Aniki, I sort of want this flatness in his voice too.

[A.J.]

i love this. it feels like a second side/voice of many of my works.. magnificent.

[Justaguy]

Alot of innner pain..(Self inflicted?) comes through. But if the point of writing to share was to express it to others? Well done. if it was to express it for yourself...only you can answer that. But again, nicely done.

[DriDri]

I think anyone who has ever been a teenager can relate to this, great job!

[Jimi Brady]

I can definitely relate to the sheer, crippling sadness of withdrawal from the world. Sometimes a kind word or gesture is all that one needs. Very well-written.

[krish]

awesomeness shows here........nice one....

[Patrick Henry]

: ) I don't think it's dark. I think it sounds like you were up for two days studying hard and got a little emotional before finally allowing yourself to succumb to sleep. It's comforting and familiar to me..... in the sense that I sleep about 2-4 every day. xoxo -Mark

[John Stussy]

Definitely bleak, those days of extreme introversion and depression are more exhausting than the most active days it seems. Couldn't help thinking, damn that poor lass needs a hug. You captured the feel of those days really well. I hope you don't have days like that too often, keep your chin up.