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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1383372-Overdose
by Jesse
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Death · #1383372
A surreal story about a pill-popping girl who wanders the woods...
The only star in the darkening sky is blinking. Realizing it's only a radio tower, Sunny takes back her wish. It's an apathetic evening; not cold and not warm, not pretty, but not ugly either. It's the kind of time that makes her wish for a thunderstorm to come and make things feel more real. It couldn't only be the blue ones she took. It had to be the ones in her mother's room; the one's with two colors.

She shakes her head and laughs in the middle of the forest, trees bound to the mossy ground in large, gnarled roots that peak above the dirt in some places. She doesn't know why she's laughing, but it feels so good. The sound causes torrents of birds to erupt from the trees around her, black v's melting into the clouds.

She isn't alone, but she likes to think she is. He is always there with her, even when she forgets at times like this. He follows her, staying far enough behind her to where she can't hear his footsteps when he crunches the leaves. He isn't evil, but he isn't good either. Just like the forest; just like the night sky he is gray and white and black all combined. He would pick her up if she tripped over a branch, but might push her back down again. That's just how it was. Love and hate. Pain and happiness. It didn't matter if he was real or not because he could hear her voice when she sung, he could run his fingers through her hair when she was asleep.

Leaves were spiraling down from the skeleton arms, dancing and twisting in the wind. "Don't forget to put your plate in the dishwasher when you're done eating," Sunny laughs and falls down. At first it doesn't hurt, but then she realizes she fell into a large thorn bush.

"Fuck," she bites her tongue until blood fills her mouth, dripping from between her lips, splattering onto her white sweater. Drip, Drip, drip. She can feel the thorns piercing her flesh, raking at her back with the wind as dry rose petals fall around her.

"I knew I should have kept the others hidden between my pillows," she stands shakily to her feet, bleeding through her shirt in tiny pinpricks. A quiet, self-assured chuckle comes from behind her, causing her to jump, rocks and dust kicked up under her boots.

"Go home, you fucking loser," she screams, almost retching at the taste of her own blood. "Go home and masturbate to the kiddie porn Dad hides in the bathroom. It's not like Mom's ever going to find it anyway... And it's not as if you're ever going to find anything yourself... Following me all the time."

"But I want to see what you'll do next," he says, coming from the trees, blending into the autumn colors except for his skin, choking away the golden sun. "Next time you fall, I'll make a better attempt at catching you."

Sniffling, shaking her hair out of her eyes, dry and bloodshot, pupils dilated to where they are barely visable against the cotton blue, she says, "It's not healthy to live through someone else. Stop being my shadow... It's starting to feel wrong." She didn't mean the words that rolled out of her mouth, her wounded tongue enunciating every other word swollen, louder and louder.

He made her feel alive because she thought of him as dead... And compared to her own life, drifting in and out of consciousness, he probably was. Nothing more than a walking corpse, rotting under that perfect skin, that pearly-white smile. He took her hands and they spun around and around together, the thorn bush blurring into the sky, the sky melting into the branches of the trees. Petals still fell from the dying thorns, they were caught in Sunny's hair, falling lazily to the ground.

"Next time we make love," Sunny says, "Let me be the one that wears the mask..." She purses her lips, snot running from her nose as the world around them slowly grows still. He kisses her with an open mouth as if he can taste her high, probing her dry mouth with his tongue. "I want it to feel like I could die at any time... And be satisfied," She pulls away from him, her sharp profile cutting into the rolling, purple clouds. "And although you're probably already dead... And living inside me every night... Like a parasite. It will comfort you too."

Sunny finds where the gates to the old, abandoned cemetary begin. The sun has been eaten away by the stars, the darkness, but it's scent lingers in the air. Headstones curl and twist on the steep hills, winding around the masoleum.

They lay under the stained glass window, a technicolor potrayal of the crucifixion. Sunny, wears the porcelain mask, shades of one million colors casting against the shining white... And he penetrates her heart with his outstretched arms as he thrusts between her legs, blending into the scenic view of stone angels and weeping willows. They fuck until she loses her high, or thinks she does...

And then wakes up, twisted in the ghost sheets in her room... Under the embrace of complete darkness. And wishes, prays for another overdose.

© Copyright 2008 Jesse (mordrid at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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