Phoenix in the water, pt. 4

I don’t feel like writing at all. I have no idea of what comes next, but I guess it’s in times like these it’s important to force oneself. So here it goes, for better or for worse:

 

Sundays have always been holy. Even for this girl who was nicely curled in her bed, shielded from the winter that was slowly coming. “Hey.” Something poked her shoulder. “Hey, please, can you wake up?” A whisper so low it felt like a breeze. Forced out of her sleep way too early she turned to her murder victim. “Cat,” she sighted. The fact that Cat was in her room didn’t startle her. The sun was hours away, so it was certain that a knock on the door wouldn’t get any response. “What’s the matter?” she finally managed to get out, yawning. Cat had been crying, and she was about to start again. “Come here, tell me, what is it?” Noticing the exhaustion of her body as she joined sitting on the bed’s edge she added “Have you gotten any sleep tonight?” Head shaking, it was obvious she wasn’t ready to talk. “Can,” a muffled  word came out with a sob. “Can I sleep here tonight?” A question she wasn’t expecting. “Sure, yeah, go ahead. I’ll just…” And the mid-sentence was hanging there, because Cat was already asleep. What the hell?

When she woke again, the sun was shining bright through the windows. Stretching she noticed she was alone again. It was almost time for lunch! What? But the alarm, looking around for the phone, for it was not on her nightstand. She found it in her bed. Checking the alarm app, it surely was set at the right time, so it must have been turned off. Cat, you little- 
A quick shower would do. As the warm water sprayed down she woke up, bit by bit. When she reached for the shampoo it felt like the warm water speared her back. Turning her back away from the water she tried to look for a wound or something. What in the world? There was something there, but she couldn’t see it properly. With the water still running she went to the mirror and tried to get the fog away. There! At the base of her spine. When did I get a freaking tattoo?! She tried to touch it, but it hurt badly. It didn’t look like a regular tattoo, though? The spiraling and intertwining pattern was one thing, but it was in a golden color. It reminded her of something, she’d seen it quite recently… The pattern almost looked like a scar. Leaving a mark in her skin, deeper. She could feel it. Slightly more gentle she stroked the skin. She could actually feel in her fingers where the twirling lines went. It wasn’t huge, but covered quite a bit of her lower back. But most importantly, how the heck did it get there?! She most definitely hadn’t gone to a tattoo artist, she didn’t have that kind of money lying around! And it didn’t even look like it had just gotten there. But it had. “How?”
A failed shower later she found some baggy clothes that wouldn’t irritate her back and went for lunch. Ignoring the increasing pain in her back she was after all hungry. It wasn’t anything special and she couldn’t find Cat so she found a seat by herself. Finally getting some food in her stomach made the day a lot easier to handle. Now she could actually think. What really happened last night?

“Hey, Cat?” No response from the other side of the door. Another knock without any further luck and she went in. “Hi you,” a small whisper to the girl in bed. A grunt in respond. Her roommate must still be in the cafeteria, for it was just those two in the room. Cat was laying in bed, but sat up when she saw the food. Noticing the Cat’s look she quickly added, “I brought you some food, since you missed lunch.” “Thanks. Sorry for last night, that was pretty weird, right?” A joking smile quickly went across her mouth. “It sure was, what happened?” Grabbing a chair she was getting ready for a long story. “Oh, nothing special, just… things,” Cat said fleetingly. That really wasn’t a good answer, and she wasn’t going to let her get away with it. “Come on. You have to tell me something. You seriously woke me up in the middle of the night, something must have happened.” Cat stopped eating and studied her shoes. “It’s nothing, really. I overreacted, it doesn’t matter now. Thanks for the food.” And just like that she was dismissed. She could feel it, and she didn’t like it at all. Why couldn’t she tell her? In shock she rose up and went out. She clearly wasn’t welcome anymore. They were friends. Close friends, at least she thought so. She would understand, or try to. She wouldn’t lose her, but crushing her wasn’t the solution either. This was all too much. Once inside her own room she grabbed the newly borrowed book and fled into a new world. More problems, but not her own.

 

That’s all I could get in an hour. Lots of mysteries building up. Also, I haven’t forgotten the meeting with Josh. I was intending to blend it in the conversation with Cat, but I had too many loose ends. I don’t have the answers to the problems I’ve created, so bear with me, folks!

 

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Consider this

Everyone goes through different fases at any time, some less pleasurable than others. Seeing someone struggle with their situation creates desperation to fix it. As much as the people around would like, there is little we can do. It is in the mind of the troubled that the change has to occur. People might change, they may never. Their development, or lack of such, should never stop you from doing or becoming anything. I therefore ask you, read these words of wisdom with awareness. They might appeal to your own situation, or those close to you. I said that there is little we can do. That might be true, but showing that you see, and how it troubles you may open up their eyes to realize that other care about them. It is a wonder how knowing that you mean something, even the tiniest bit, can make you feel significant again.


The Hardest Part

The most frustrating part of writing is when you have an inspirational moment or thought, you can’t sit down and write, but when you do the thought is gone. It’s not like it actually is gone, forgotten, the spirit of writing it out has left me. I hate it above all. Everyone has writer’s block from time to time, but that’s only the first layer of Dante’s fearful hell. Losing the spike of inspiration is the eighth and unofficial layer as it is so horrific that no one dares to acknowledge it.

In my previous post I intended on writing so much more. My mind had drawn a beautiful story of how friendship saves life, brings back the identity, and how little is put into its true value. Everyone’s focus surrounds the idea of a perfect friendship; knowing each other so well that there only needs to be screamed “Vatican Cameos!” and the friend would understand. The desire for the endless trust is great, yet it takes more than just a couple of common interests for one to open up.
It’s the moment when you are there for someone while their heart is broken, when the tears are streaming endlessly and you can hear the sorrow in the cramped voice. The moment when you find the tissue instead of another person that can help, when you stay for however long it takes, regardless of how uncomfortable the position is. That is when your friendship begins.

Sometimes this is all I need. To ramble about my thoughts. My ideas are clustered at all times, I think too much, too little, am unfocused and wander off.  Nevertheless, my work is not finished. This is not my final thought. It’s a beginning, and a good one too.

Monster

The grin on that slim face gives me goose bumps. How could they not see, what could possibly cover they eyes with such a thick layer that they even came closer to the wolf? The growl of the evil heart roared in the shivering air. Change was coming, but it wasn’t headed in the right direction. The devils were winning and people were celebrating their presence. Naïve they believed they had found the good soul, the perfect person. Oh how they were fooled. Clinging hard to the thin arms and bones of the little creature, smiling along with wide mouth of a liar, they all truly had faith in what the monster could do. But what they didn’t realize was what they were about to do. Feeding it with love and compassion, giving it the warmth it didn’t deserve. It was getting stronger, got connections and pulled the tiny strings in its spider web. As a snake she would eat them after she was done. There was nothing that could stop her, the people believe.  Their eyes were gone and the hope had vanished and was replaced by the evil of a liar. A fake that spread nothing but pain and sorrow to the hearts of the true. Creatures like her had no goals, had nothing to aim for, only destruction. The future would never come would these things continue to roam the streets of the people. They had to be disposed. We will dispose of her.
No one will believe the tales of the truth. The words cut through their simple brains and make them function, make their eyes open, but they don’t want that. They just want to sit and chat, have fun and live in their tiny little words, thinking everything is fine and all they do is right. How could they possibly have acted wrong? All they did was feeding the monster of evil. How could they possibly have done anything that could lead to the end of the world, the end of all good? All they did was believe the lies, breeding a being worse than all others, spreading the hatred and pain. There is nothing wrong in being so stupid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Source: http://www.123rf.com/photo_7820097_halloween-surprise–evil-man-behind-innocent-naive-girl.html