Numb

Sometimes I wish... That you could see into my mind, and feel everything that I feel. Maybe then, you'll understand.

Tears don't flow from my eyes, I've now forgotten the feel of butterflies in my stomach. I can walk past a group of boys without looking twice, and I dress-up nicely for no one but myself. I can walk tall, without any sense of vulnerability in each stride and glance. I love the fact that I don't stand out. I love the fact that... I feel free.

__________________________

It is Sunday morning, 11:34am.
Her mind awakes. Thoughts of the night before squirm, ache, cry in her head. She doesn't want to wake up, she can't. Her stomach sets off a vibrating alarm, crying out to be fed. She slowly opens her eyes as the morning sun pierces through her eye lids, creating a bright orange colour. The mascara has clamped both her top and bottom eyelashes together. Tears from the night before must have softened the mascara from her eyes; creating a bond, unwanting to break. She carefully rubs her eyes, breaking the mascara bond; the daylight grows brighter.

Her muscles ache, sending messages to the brain saying, "Moving is painful! Beware!" But she ignores it. Joints crack and snap as she tries to sit up. She props herself up, using only both her elbows as a jack; her neck feels worst. She removes the china-patterned quilt from her legs, revealing wounds and bruises. The sun suddenly feels hotter on her battered legs.

She turns to the edge of the bed, and struggles to stand. A mirror is there.
She takes a good, hard look at herself and the man lying in the same bed. She weeps.
It is the night before, 10:49pm.

Oh! You Pretty Things by Au Revoir Simone