•Prologue•

•Prologue•

the thoughts of spiders .. the darkness .. the heats of depression and suicide. dripping blood and vampires .. skulls and bones .. screams and tears. Death. once pulled into the swirling vortex of self destructiveness, seemingly, the darkness inside the stone walls became my prison. the light above the well is only a hallucination. the words offered here were captured in notebooks and on scattered shards of paper .. at home ... at night ... in the heat of depression ... in the swamps of rage ... down in the deserts of isolation ... beneath the moon ... naked ... in tears ... on the filthy floors of indefinite bedrooms .... these are my confessions, private illustrations, eternal secrets, & momentary leaps of skull-screaming madness .... it's all here. successes, failures -- insecurities. My Little Sins.

my words ... to your eyes.

yours in struggle,

-i who shall not be named.

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•One•

It began with a vision. yes, a vision. i remember waking up that one gray morning after a most terrible night. it was november. my tear-stricken eyes were sensitive to the morning light, and i didnt like the cold. it was unmistakably silent with the exception of the constant ticking of the palm-sized watch on my dresser. i hated that watch.

there was no doubt in my mind that i never was exactly normal .. these visions only confirmed my suspicions. long nights of hard partying .. drugs .. alcohol .. blood fights .. and fornication had become the norm. it was the only way i could escape it. i was sixteen.

7 A.M. and my feet hit the cold floor. Outside my window the trees were bare and the sky was gray. leaves blew across the road in a spiral. no cars. no noise. silence. just the cold. this was the room i never left. it felt somehow safe to me in a life that was insecure. that is where my security ended. i dare not leave that room until darkness falls. so i wait .. and wait .. think .. and d e t e r i o r a t e . . . . . .

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•Two•

“FUCK!!!!!” my fist hit the wall and i clearly felt a snap. a wall? a wall. yes .. a wall. once again it had metamorphosized back. it had stopped taunting me. but now it was clear my wrist was broken .. the bone protruded from the skin and stuck out. it didnt hurt, i had grown immune to the pain. it was still warm with blood. i stared at it for awhile and let my arm dangle there. i recall writing an entry:

tuesday, november 23: As each day goes on and on, i feel more and more depressed. i dont know why. ive felt this way a lot lately, and its slowly been progressing. people notice that i always lack eye contact and talk in an extremely low tone. so i guess its noticeable. i’ve been crying hysterically for hours and i dont know why. i cant tell anyone about it, so i tell myself. If i did commit suicide, would anyone really even miss me? ... or would i be forgotten in a matter of weeks? i cant wait until i die! then they’ll be sorry! i will have my revenge. for all the times i was just a joke, and for all the people that keep pushing me away...further and further away from whatever it was that i knew before .. revenge is sweet. Once im dead there’s nothing that they can do. i cant live this life anymore.

Its now 9 PM. i remember driving back from the hospital with my right arm resting in throbbing pain. it was raining now and the drops on the windshield only intensified the beams of light from oncoming cars. it hurt my eyes .. i squinted hard to avoid the stinging pain. i was tired now. my weary eyes were barely open, and all i wanted to do was belt out and cry. they stung with oncoming tears.

Driving down the highway the flashes of lights hypnotized my eyes, and it was hard to see. in a desperate attempt to keep myself awake, i thought of that watch .. that same, irritating “want-to-blow-the-brain-out-of-your-skull because of the ticking” watch that resided on my dresser. a surge of anger rushed through my body as i began to hear that god damned ticking. that ticking...that ticking .. i could hear it in my mind .. constant ticking. it began to get louder. slow at first then faster and faster. i couldnt take it. the angst-ridden, soul-shattering music filled my ears and soothed me. the volume was pushed completely beyond a safe capacity. my windows rattled and shook violently at the sheer intensity of the music. i turned the death metal up even more and screamed the lyrics at the top of my lungs. my throat began to bleed, and my words came out attached to gurgles of blood.

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•Three•

I was home now and coughed hard trying to recollect myself. blood dripped from my mouth and down my chin; it landed with a splat on the ground, and trailed up to my safe room which i rarely ever left. i felt more relaxed now. calm and cool, but still in pain. ...always in pain... my mind ached from racing thoughts, and my arm throbbed from a protruding bone. my eyes stung from tears and lack of sleep. my hair was still unwashed. i was a train wreck waiting to happen.. steaming forward down the track at full force, fueled by the torment of my life, and heading hard only to find the track runs out. i was going to crash.

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•Four •

My skin tore and a warm trickle ran down my arm. i had been sitting in this place for nearly a day .. unmoving .. not wanting to breathe and be alive. it was hard times. i felt relief in having my lifeblood flow from my tattered skin. i held my wound and licked the excess blood. it was hot and salty on my tongue, and i loved the taste. i breathed a sigh of relaxation as my back pressed against one of my rust colored walls. anxiety attacked me .. i began to cry. tears flowed down the endless river on my face, and the red blood in my eyes made the two dots of blue seem as lovely as a spring sky. “FuCk tHe SkY!!” i screamed at the top of my lungs, then recomposed myself. no one was listening. I became enraged at my own desolation. the blue sky hurt my eyes, and i avoided it. i shimmied back into my corner and buried myself in my knees. I cried out loud again, choking myself with mucus and saliva. i heard a voice and paused for a moment. looking up, a face began to appear on my far wall, and the silver liquid metal-like substance seeped under my door. it was happening again and i was scared. the silver substance gradually turned into a pool of blood, taunting me into taking a swim. it began to seep from my walls and windows, under my mattress and from books. over my shelves, and surrounded my room, until, finally, my whole room was a sea of red. the evil face on my wall began to stare and laugh from the deepness of his belly, and in the very depths of his eyes i could see the flames that governed his very being. my eyes were still red .. my face still wet with dripping tears, and suddenly, i stopped. stopped breathing. stopped thinking. just listened. listened intently. i could feel the blood flow increasing through my veins as my heart began to race faster .. so fast it felt like it would burst. i swear that a gaping hole would replace the muscle and tissue that now occupied my chest. “that fucking watch...” i let my voice trail away in a low monotonous tone. everything in my room was covered in the red seeping substance .. everything.. except for the gold little pocket watch residing on my dresser. i felt an intense rage, then a sudden calmness, and everything went black and faded away. it was 2AM.

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•Five•

I must have slept for a long time, because that whole week i remember not a thing. maybe i was asleep.. or.. awake.. or .. drugged...? passed out? i don’t know. but the next thing i could recall was waking up at a party .. upstairs of course. under the sheets .. naked. clothes were flung, strewn about the traditionally-shaped four-cornered room. it looked country. flowers and oak furniture decorated the room. floral prints and lace – frightening. i remember sitting up abruptly, after quickly realizing what had obviously happened, and my sunkissed light brown hair hung in my eyes. i put my cold hand to my forehead and clutched the sheet to my breasts as i stumbled out of bed to look for my clothes. (which was quite a feat, i must say, seeing as though i had no recollection of what i wore! hahaha.. yesss..) i prayed my partner wouldn’t wake, i didnt want him to see me.

i was exhausted, the inside of my legs hurt, and i wanted to go home. the pounding of the music downstairs only added to my headache. i could barely see through the thick darkness of the room, but i managed, and took one last look at my partner. he was fast asleep on his side, an arm hanging off the side of the bed. “..charmed..” i breathed out loud sarcastically .. then shut the bedroom door and went home, still wrapped in a peach bed sheet.

i imagine that it must have seemed somewhat .. odd .. to an onlooker. a girl running home wrapped in a bed sheet .. stepping on the dirtied ends and tripping herself to her knees. but at that point, i didn’t give a flying fuck how it looked: i ran full force all the way home. i could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as i began to sweat. my whole body throbbed with pumping blood. i clutched tighter to the blanket as i rounded the corner of my street. my feet were tired and becoming blistered from running on pavement; my skin was wet with perspiration. the hair that fell across my face was damp and stuck there when i finally stopped on my porch to rest and catch my breath. i put one hand on my hip and looked up to the clear night sky, and took a deep breath in ... and out. i kept my head back and moved my eyes around, looking at the stars, and noticing the moon. it looked so close i thought i could touch it.

yes .. well.. anyway.. a key. coming back into reality again, i thought that i might be needing one of those. i remember that i kept a spare in the garage. so i creeped down off my porch and down into the backyard. the only light i had was that of which nature had provided me. the sweet smell of the grass was long gone now. it was an early morning in december. sweet december...

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•Six•

next entry:

friday, october 13: As you probably have noticed, dear diary, my last entry was nearly 11 months ago, and nothing has changed. if it has changed, it’s gotten worse. much worse. ... my confession .. im diluted and perfectly flawed. i shall live by passion and not by rule and im insecure ...i need aggression and im supposed to be strong and have all the answers. ..a cannibal in the new church of cancer but i'm nothing special! im not unique! i have many secrets. and im at an end. yes. im at an end .....and there's ...no way out!!! i need to find my sanctuary ..... someplace safe. gotta get this outta me..... this is my escape and i think about it all the time. im volatile. but im still not comfortable in my skin. i need to talk to someone new. i’m suffocating.

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•Seven•

..And so i am here again, a year later. it began with a vision. yes, a vision. i woke up on this cold gray november morning, and my tear-stricken eyes are sensitive to the morning light .. i still dont like the cold. it is still unmistakably silent with the exception of my watch still residing on my dresser.. ticking.. i still hate it. long nights of hard partying .. drugs .. alcohol .. blood fights .. and fornication had become all too familiar to me. and i could no longer escape it. i am seventeen.

7 A.M. and my feet hit the cold floor. Outside my window the trees are bare again and the sky is gray. leaves are blowing across the road in a spiral. no cars. no noise. just silence. and the cold. this is the room i never left. it felt somehow safe to me in a life that was insecure. but my security ended. i dare not leave this room. this is where i take control.

it ends with a vision.

...B A N G...

the end.