Creative+Writing+Piece

Creative Writing Piece

No one understands. I needed someone then- anyone… but my face was just one of too many. I wish I could tell you I’m sorry… but you were the smart one. You left long before I ever thought of it. You didn’t look back. You just kept running, into the distance. I lay here in this hospital bed. I can smell death all around me. It never fades, never stops. Death never stops. It never ends. My thoughts… they never end. I can’t stop my mind from processing, computing, //planning//. I know what I need to do, what I //have// to do. I’m willing to risk everything. I’m willing to risk it all to break out… and see you. I //long// to see you again. I long to see your fluttering eyelids, those deep green eyes, that blue hair. You were “punished” for the latter, but even after they washed it many times, it never went away. The color never faded. A society where everything has to be perfect. Male and female. Black and white. No violence, no nutcases, no un-ripened fruit, no starvation, no want or need… no fun. //Perfect//. Everyone gets acceptable grades. Everyone is polite. Everyone obeys the rules. No one has “bad” thoughts. No adrenaline. No excitement. Only mildly bland versions of joy. So when you came along everyone disapproved. They looked down upon you. No parents? Bad. Bright green eyes, no uniform brown contacts to cover them up? Worse. Pale, almost fragile skin. Jet black hair. A piercing, an un-removed birthmark. And as I later found out, a tattoo. All bad. Imperfections that aren’t allowed. You were so “un” perfect. An angel sent to us, to //me//, from the outside world. The “bad” place where the “unruly” lived. Where things //weren’t// perfect. You saved me that day. Before you showed up out of nowhere, I had lost all hope… thinking I was abnormal, strange, different. But you showed up and I realized that I wasn’t the one who was “weird”. //They// were. And they were trying to suck me in with them. You made me feel so special. Like I meant something. Like I was worth something. Like you cared. Like you cared about //me//. I cried when you left. I knew you would… you even told me. I mean who would want to stay in a place like this? For me? Stay //for// me? Yeah right! I wasn’t that important. Not to you, not to //anyone!// You hugged me for a long time that night. Slowing my sobs to a dull sniffle. But it still hurt. I clung and eventually you had to inch your way away. I never wanted you to go. I wanted us to be “us” forever- unchanging and continuous into eternity. But I was too weak and scared and naïve back then to do anything about it. Once you left I could only be with you in my dreams. But it wasn’t the same. Then I found out why you left. The //real// reason. It wasn’t that you were sick of //me// it was because you were sick of //them//. The way they would //talk//. To you or about you. Like you were no better than the spit coming out of their mouths or the dirt beneath their feet. I overheard //them// one day. They were talking about you. “– such a relief.” “I //know//, It’s a good thing he left when he did. I don’t know what would have happened to him if he had stayed here any longer.” “He was so //disgusting//–” “– and //improper!//” “No wonder! He had no //parents!// It’s no surprise he was so un//educated// and //shameful//.” “Good riddance I say.” I stopped listening then. I couldn’t take it a second longer. I would have ripped their throats out if I stayed another moment. I missed you. I //still// miss you. But tonight’s the night. I’m breaking out like you did just a few months before. I’m getting out of here, before I snap.

Note: I started this on April 27th and only had a few lines but then an idea popped into my head and I started putting my thoughts down on paper. This is obviously a first draft and needs work. This is also clearly not the whole story. I don't believe that I could finish this story in the next 5 days so just think of this as a first draft to be continued later.