One of My Pet Peeves.

•May 2, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Okay, sorry I haven’t posted in a while, but here we go. Let me tell you a story, a story of a pale, short, frustrated girl.

May, 2 2011    6:40 A.M.  My boyfriend of two years and eight months calls me. I told him to wake me up early so I could actually make an effort to dress like a girl should. The outfit I chose is cute. Dark blue skinny jeans with a white fade, white sandals that had a flower in the middle(which Terrence bought for me) a black and white striped top under a see through grey stretch top. (He also bought that.)

I get to school and the morning is slow to start. I apply makeup in the cafeteria, listen to jokes, eat breakfast. The same old, same old.

I get to first block and I watch Shrek and Joseph and The Amazing Technicolor Coat with Caleb, listen to parodies, talk to Heather, then we break for second block. Not much there, just a writing assignment and jokes, again.

We go to third, then to lunch. And this is where my annoyance meter completely breaks due to fake whores that run their over-active mouth of indulgence and dick.

As I sat at the lunch table next to Heather, across from Natasha, and Patrick sits across from Heather. Think of us like the connect four pieces. We’re sitting there, having a normal conversation. And then we start talking about a pageant that recently took place.

“I mean, I think she’s pretty, but her spray tan is too much. I mean, I know I’m ugly, but if your kinda pale, or if you have a tan, and you try to tan even more to make yourself even prettier, it just makes you ugly.” At least that’s how I see it.

A split second after I say this, a voice pipes in. It’s the mousy girl that sits on the left of Natasha. Thank you Lord, I’m so glad there is a split in between the tables.

Immediately, she and her other friend, who sits on the left of me, start to bitch.

The mousy girl starts first. She recently got a spray tan and looks like a horse shit on her face. I never really paid attention to her, but her annoying voice always grated on me.

“So, just because I got a spray tan, I’m ugly?” She’s thinking she’s hot.

Her friend speaks up, “I think we look just fine. I mean, I think that she should go get a spray tan. At least then she’d be presentable and I could at least stand looking at her.”

They went on like that for a few minutes, but I lost my ability to think straight. I was pissed. With a capital P. I didn’t see why they had to talk shit about me  when I wasn’t even remotely talking about them. I finally noticed the horrid tans they had, noticed them, noticed their ugly faces.

Heather and I left for class, I was fuming. I decided that if they had the nerve to talk badly about me, I could do the same to them. And I know what I say when I say it.

Such humans that do idiot shit for no reason, other than they think they’re cool, are a waste of skin. They’re just sacs ready to burst open and show the world all of their piss and shit and blood. I really hate these whores. And I don’t even know the names of these people.

Well, this has been my pet peeve. It’s really ignorant to try to impose when you’re not needed.

Mother Night.

•January 26, 2011 • 2 Comments

Mother Night.

My Cold, Caress

My Touch, Whisper

My Soul, Your’s

My Body, Willing

Your fingertips, I await

Your touch, I desire

Your heart, I need

Your blood, I crave

Take me, and taste me.

Make me want to be,

Everything that is

Make me need this,

Sweet Release…

Am I yours now?

Do I belong?

A Normal Saturday.

•August 28, 2010 • Leave a Comment

Every Saturday I go to Terrence’s house. We usually just hang out. I watch him play video games and he makes fun of me for being a dork. We eat noodles. Unless were in the mood for something really good. We’ll watch T.V. together, and sometimes we’ll fall asleep as well. I love waking up and not knowing why I’m not in my room and then I’ll realize I’m with my best friend. But then there are the times where we argue, we don’t speak to another, he’ll immerse himself in a game and I’ll  cry quietly to myself. But that’s not a big deal anymore though, and things are getting happier for me. I hope it will stay this way. We’ll have the odd, outrageous conversations most people don’t even want to think about. But I’m closer to him than I’ve ever been with anyone else…So I guess that’s my day. I just hate it sooo much when my parents call and tell me they’re on there way to get me. I wish they would forget me so I could stay the night.

But that’s just hopeful thinking. Or dreaming.

Why lie?

•August 19, 2010 • 1 Comment

I don’t see why…

Why you always lie..

I’m honest with you…

So be honest with me..

I don’t freak out, so you can tell me anything.

And after talking to you, and then hearing my boyfriend say what you told him…

There really is no point in this. I just don’t want to start shit.

It kind of is a big deal in one sense….It seems you only came to terms with this because of need.

Not to be a good friend…

It upset me a great deal.

I thought we….I don’t even know anymore….

So please, just tell me the truth as well.

Because I hate it when you lie.

Memories.

•July 10, 2010 • 1 Comment

My memories hit me like a ten ton brick sometimes. One moment I’m here. The next I’m back in church on that night.

I was walking down the hallway, standing in the line, entering the bathroom door on the left. I had listened to three songs..did my part..worshipped the Lord..now I had to pee. God could forgive that…couldn’t he?

I was washing my hands when I heard the footsteps. Hopefully Jeremy or Colton. Probably not though. I exited the bathroom. Hoping to make a quick escape before whoever it was came out of the mens room. I was not lucky.

“Psst, Rachel come here.”

It was Jordan. I hated Jordan. So I sped up, hoping to get away. No such luck. He caught me with one powerful arm and groped my breast with his left hand.

“No, Jordan leave me alone. I just want to go back to the sermon.”

“But we can be together right now. We can get away with anything. No one will notice.” His grip tightens the more I struggle.

“Let me go!” I struggle even more.

He begins to walk towards a lone door on the left of the hallway. I drag my shoes and try to catch myself on the wall. He’s too strong for me to get away.

“Jordan please just let me go.”

“Why don’t you want me? Come on.”

“No! I hate you! Leave me alone!”

He slammed me down into the floor and I almost began to cry. He pushed my skirt up and pulled my panties down.

“No, JORDAN STOP!”

He pushed me down and put his hand over my mouth, shoving two of his fingers into my vagina. I went still in fear. All of the “I would kick him there.” and the “I would scream loudly.” just went away. It was just me silently struggling to get Jordan off of me. I couldn’t cry out, could barely move, save me trying to get his fingers away from me. I cried in terror.

Someone walked down the hallway and that scared Jordan off me. Finally. He looked at the blood on his fingers and then smiled down at me.

“You should learn how to have sex, I’ll wear a condom for you.”

“Just leave me alone.” I said tearfully, getting up and leaving.

I felt so dirty. A warm sensation started to soak my legs. Blood. I ran to the bathroom for a second time and cleaned myself as thoroughly as I could. I walked out to the service, and back to my mom.

“Mom, I think I started my period.”

“Again? You were just on it last week.” She gave me an odd look.

I looked down and mumbled “Can you just give me a pad, please?”

“Fine.” She gave me another odd look. I walked away, back to the bathroom to put the pad on, hoping that it would stop the bleeding.

After church: (In the van)

“I wish dad would just hurry up.” Remarked Clinton, my older brother.

“Mom, I need to talk to you when we get home.” I whispered in her ear.

“You know you can’t say that. I worry, get out of the van, tell me now.”

We stepped out of the van and I looked at her and then I started crying.

“M-mom, it was when I went to the bathroom…and it-it was Jordan…and he pulled me into ano-another room. And-and he started to touch me.” At that I started to cry. And so did she.

This is an actual memory. It hurts. Its been two years and it still haunts me. I can’t even finish. But I can tell you that I was blamed for it. Blamed for all of it. No one ever believes me.

Maybe you will…

Finished..

•July 9, 2010 • 2 Comments

I’m done.

I’m tired of crying, tired of trying.

Tired of trying to make sense out of all the bullshit and lies. Tired of worrying what they think. Tired of having to always be nice about everything, it’s bullshit, always has been bullshit and always will be bullshit. I’m finished.

This life is no longer mine to control. I gave it away the day I promised him I would stop cutting myself. The control is no longer in my hands…hell, it never has been. I was just so tired of crying myself to sleep, tired of wearing the skinnies and long sleeves. I wasn’t ashamed of my cuts. I never had been. But I couldn’t show them off. Though I would have loved to.

I just wanted a normal life.

Where did it all go wrong?

Why do I still cry myself to sleep at night? Why can’t I just let go and leave this god forsaken place? What the hell does anyone care if I’m here or not?

Oh, they can pretend, because God knows, that’s what they’re good at. Why do I still carry my irrational fears? Fears I know, that will never come true. He promised they wouldn’t. I believe him.

He’s saved me.

More than once.

I do believe he saved me from myself.

And no matter how through I am with this world and its bullshit and liars and fakes…I can’t bring myself to do it. He is the only thing keeping me here. Not like anyone would know, no one reads this anyways.

I’m tired. Just too tired to deal with it.

I am finished.

It all adds up to?

•July 8, 2010 • 1 Comment

So I knew this girl who liked her best friend. But she was too much of a coward to do anything about it. And when I met him, I had no idea they were even talking to each other. We became good friends, and she soon became jealous. She blamed all her failures and misdeeds on me.

But it wasn’t always like that. She never paid attention to me..unless there wasn’t any friends that wanted to listen to her. So she would come to me and complain and then say that I was her best friend. But in all reality, I was never her friend. And when I finally stopped caring and started to live how I pleased and talked to who I wanted, did she give me undue attention and become jealous.

And then a friend of hers was offended. And I didn’t care. But when her offended friend went off on my best friend, I had to defend him. And then she went off on me. So I went off on her in retaliation. And you know what I learned?

I learned that she was the coward, the liar, the cheater, the one who always tried to be a badass, the one who always had a secret, because she was a coward and couldn’t just tell anyone the truth.

So I sit here, thinking about our friendship and where it went wrong.

And then I remembered. It went wrong because she decided she didn’t trust me. Too bad, I’m a great friend.

It all adds up to her loss.