As I sit here staring at her picture, I almost can’t believe it…

        I’ve been on autopilot since the Sheriff’s press conference announcing the discovery of your body. The funeral was a blur of polite faces and equally kind and semi sincere condolences, that I can’t bring into focus for the life of me. It’s as if it never happened, but there’s a sense of déjà vu like it did in fact occur, but was merely a figment of a dream. But it could’ve easily been of imagination just the same. Listen at yourself, it’s like you’re losing it. Pull it together. If you continue staring through everyone they’re going to declare you insane with grief. Or maybe just insane. But I have to keep playing it over in my mind…. What exactly had the sheriff stated during that interview? I suppose it didn’t really matter…but what if it did? What if I’m questioned? What do I say? I really should listen to what these people are saying…but I simply can’t. If I try to focus all I can hear is that sound. God, that dreadful sound. It wasn’t a snap. But it wasn’t a crack either. The sickening crunch haunts me even my sleep. ‘There is no rest for the wicked’, isn’t that what mother always says? It IS just like her to always say it isn’t it… but what would she say if she knew? She’d probably just called me a wretched wicked girl just like she always has….. Yes. Probably.  But as I sit here staring at her picture, I almost can’t believe I killed you. But most importantly, I cant believe they’re too stupid to have not figured it out yet….
                                                          K.delaine
It wasn’t much, but it felt good. Thanks for reading. 

Advertisements

A friendship that kills

Poor little George was a quiet lad

With one friend he was often sad

Now poor George is a lonely lad 

He cut out that friend’s eyes when he got mad.
       When I was little my best friend was a kid named Jamal who lived down the street. He disappeared when we were twelve. Even though his family spent months searching everywhere for him, they never thought to check under the floorboards in my room.

        I didn’t want to hurt Jamal. But I had to. He had something bad inside him. My friend wasn’t my friend. It just wore his body around like when I pretended to be Iron Man gfor Halloween. Except Iron Man didn’t hurt anybody. Iron Man wasa man inside a machine. It was a shadow inside of Jamal.

          The shadow hurt people, except Jamal got blamed for it. Like old Mrs. Dillinger’s cat that ‘disappeared’. It was the same cat Jamal’s mother found in pieces in a box under his bed. Or like when Tina, Jamal’s little sister, ‘fell’ down the stairs. She yelled his name as she tumbled and there he stood just as triumphant at the top of the stairs; still smiling. But it was when Jamal stabbed his dad that I knew I had to help. His dad told everyone what happened.

          Jamal looked so scared when the police were questioning him. He wasn’t completely shadow yet. He still had some good in him that would take over sometimes. But It was stronger. They were going to lock him away with the crazies come the next day. So after the cops left I snuck over to Jamal’s house. I was afraid, but it had to be done.
            By the time Jamal came outside, my stomach had done all the flips it could and had settled. We walked to my house. I knew my mom was asleep and my dad was still at work. I took Jamal to my dad’s workshop behind our house. I went in first and stepped quickly into the darkness. I knew he wouldn’t be able to see. I knew this workshop better than my dad did. As soon as Jamal stepped into the pitch black of the shed, I slammed the door behind him.

               Yeah he cried and begged me to stop. I kept swinging the crowbar until the last little movements.

             We were twelve when Jamal disappeared. His family spent months looking everywhere for him, thinking he had run away to escape the crazies. But they never thought to check under the floorboards in my room.

                                       k.delaine

Thanks for reading guys. Its rough as usual. I used 2 short story starters 

Reflection (used idea from wattpad) 

I just saw my reflection blink…..

It didn’t think I noticed. I turned my head for just a second, but not my attention. The movement was slight, but not as slight as it thought. It’s been slipping up lately. More movements have been noticeable.

If I can just play fool a little longer…I think as I smile into the mirror. The reflection smiled back.

It doesn’t even suspect a thing… I decided smugly. 

As I began to turnto walk away,it’s smile vanished coldly. I flick the switch off and turn away as if I didn’t notice. Back towards the mirror, I can feel it’s glare piercing me like knives. 

It knows…. The thought paralized me with fear. A startling realization hit.

I’m out of time….

                                                                                k.delaine

Sorry it’s been so long! Thanks for reading! More stories to come ☺

grounding

Im losing it. Everything is getting fuzzy. Im going down. I cant breathe. My heart is pounding so loud its making everything she was explaining backgound fuzz. I guess its give it a try now or call an ambulance later. What were those stupid steps?

1.sight- what do I see? a metal table. its so  shiny. oh look, its scratched. the light reflecting on it just seems too bright. its too harsh. all of it is just too harsh.. The fuzzy shadow is coming back… shit focus. what do you see. i see you laying there. on top of the flawed shiny table. under all these harsh lights. focus. look at those beautiful eyes. focus girl. the eyes.  theyre wrong. theyre sad. they arent brown anymore, just red. Thats what she was talking about before, remember? whats next?

2.sounds-  what am i hearing? nothing. focus. its coming back faintly- mam? do you need water? Go…..begins to fade out…. focus girl…… comes back… water please? i hear your cries. your moans. i can hear you. i can hear you.

3.smell- what do i smell- i smell nothing. focus. hospital…medical smell. what is that smell? i smell urine. i know you couldnt help it. its ok. its ok.

4. taste- i taste the vomit im choking back. its sour. its hot. i cant hold it back any more. i need to run.

outside the air isnt as thick but i still cant breathe. i still see the shine. the lights. i cant think. thick streams of tears race down  my face. Id been speaking and rocking without realizing it. what was i  saying? I tried. i tried so hard. over and over is all that was tumbling half incoherntly and involuntarily from my clumsy mouth. she came back out. her face looked sympathetic. her voice cracked. i wasnt listening to the words.its how her voice sounded. that hoplessness… she embraced me. and walked with me back inside.

I see you. and finally touch- i take you off that cruel looking table. i touch you. you feel soft. as always, yet there was a hardness now present to you.i dont know what i said but i can tell im falling apart again. i feel my boyfriends arms. his hands. his touch. i cant. Its time.

I walked out feeling like my heart was dragging behind me. you deserved better. youll always have deserved better. Ill never foreget this. never. a week later youre still all i see.laying on top of that cold hard shiny metal table. under those harsh lights. and i start shaking all over again. k.delaine.