The Tearless Hits

Not what you may assume with the title... Read on... This is my first thing I have written in a long long time so please be nice... All comments are well appreaciated!

 

The girl walked into her room, throwing her back pack to the floor. She thudded onto her bed as she took out the little bag. She lay on her back staring at her ceiling covered in glow in the dark stickers of the universe. She stared at them until they started glowing. Had time passed that quickly? Her grandparents called her to dinner. She roughly stuffed the small bag away. Where no one but her could find it.

 

She walked out to the small kitchen where her grandmother stood there with her plate in hand. She was told to take her plate and to not touch the others. Sitting in the lounge room she ate her dinner that she could not taste as they all pretended to be normal. She thought over what her actions would be tonight. Should she do it? Was it worth it? Will it help?

 

She gave a fake smile to her family as she put her dishes away. She said she was tired, said a love you and good night to her grandparents as she sent a withering glare towards her sister. The one she was forced to live with. The one who ruined it all. The one who made her life a living hell.

 

Sitting in her bed she brought the bag out. Sitting cross legged on her bed she stared at it. Thinking about the wonders it could do to her. Wondering what the harm was. She decided then, at that moment, that she simply didn’t care anymore. She didn’t have the strength to care anymore. She looked at her arm as the cuts on her wrist became apparent in the small glow of her beside lamp.

 

She looked at her wrist as she thought over all the reasons for these. Over all the thoughts she had churned in her mind over these. Never tears over the cuts. She could never cry. She finally let free. She finally shut down her over-worked brain. She didn’t care. She couldn’t care anymore. She could see it was killing her. So she just stopped. Stopped caring about everything, everyone, even herself.

 

She opened the small bag and took the small cardboard square out. On the tip of her finger, so small and colourful it looked harmless. Like nothing was wrong with it. Smiling she stared at it as she placed it on her tounge and relaxed back in her bed. Thinking of what a great night out of millions of bad ones she would have. Never knowing that this would stay with her forever. Her mouth going numb she looked up at her ceiling as those once stationary stickers on her ceiling started to zoom around the ceiling. Becoming alive and colourful. She looked around as the world became in and out of focus. The ceiling moving, the posters on her walls smiling at her, everything was going to be ok.

 

The ceiling moving, moving down. Oh no this wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be wonderful, supposed to give her a break. She looked back at the stars, praying for it to go back to happy. But no, the ceiling came down on her, enclosing her. She looked around franticly. No! this wasn’t supposed to happen! No!

 

She stands and looks at herself in the mirror. Bad idea, her eyes black and ringed with a bright blue stared back at her. Stared back at her ugly, worthless self. She saw how fat she really was, how her body was not normal, not beautiful! She saw her hands swelling, her face swelling. She knew somewhere this was not real, yet at that moment, it was all real.

 

She saw as her body turned fatter, as her blemishes turned uglier as she became what she thought she truly was. A ugly beast. She stared into the mirror and as usual did not shed a tear. She accepted her fate, to be unloved, mocked, hated. She turned away and fled to her bed. Looking at her ceiling, looking for the happy thoughts. The thoughts she survived on.

 

They were gone. Only the bad ones left. Her stars and universe turned into the things that haunted her dreams. Mocking her. She covered her eyes, but still, they stayed. She could not escape. Under the safety of her blankets, they ripped away that safety. There was no safe place anymore. She cried out. Rocking on her bed, but still no tears. They circled her, saying the truth to her. She could not escape her nightmares, now become a reality.

 

She waited it out. She whimpered as her worse fears and thoughts penetrated her mind. She knew it was supposed to end soon. But when. It had been so long to her. She cowered onto her bed as they came at her in hundreds. The thoughts and images that would haunt her forever. The world never staying still. Eventually falling asleep.

 

She woke in the morning, remembering last night and its horrors. She wanted it again. she didn’t care. She loved how it started, the colours the smiling the happy time. It was just the end that was bad. She was sure it would go away. She needed her next hit. She didn’t care. She had another hit. A more calm one, still with the high but not as extreme. She would take that, until her next hit of this.

 

She found over the next few days, weeks, months, that she still had the effects of that one night. The world was still moving. She didn’t know what to do. So she again stopped caring, taking whatever came her way. She stopped caring and it was good. It was amazing, she was happy. She was happy with her hits.

Reviews

[trainwreck]

This was very, very good! It's rare you see something this well done about a drug trip. Great job showing us the hits. Thank you for sharing this!

[tanaya]

Thank you!

[ChristianM]

a story that pulls the reader in is always good. The imagery was great throughout the whole story, which helps the reader visualize the words in their imagination. That being said I'm not a believer in the whole "drugs inspire artists" movement. I believe that the imagination is capable of so much on its own, and that drugs only dilute and distort the creative process. Still though, enjoyable story.
Cheers

[tanaya]

thank you

[unshakenScene]

wow but in a good way

[tanaya]

Thanks

[Coyote Poetry]

Some drugs like LSD can open new doors. LSD allowed you open a new part of the mind. Good writer's and musicians could not control the visions of seeing real life. They killed themselves. A very good story. Led the reader on a wild journey in thoughts and action. I tell people. Do anything real crazy. Have a watcher. Keep you safe from hurting yourself. No weakness in the story. I like the strong ending to the excellent story.
Coyote

[tanaya]

Thanks! :D

[Wolfwind]

I think you've written a very straight forward piece about one who has chosen the surealistic high of a drug, over the high of reality. It's hard for me to relate to the emotional joy in the piece, as I've never been down that road by personal choice. Yet, your words do carry across a sense of happiness during the moments of escape the hit brings. So over all I think you captured what you wished for. =)

Hope all is well with you in the land of the ROO!
Aaron

[tanaya]

Thanks!