I was in my room doing what I usually do... reading, and my mother came in and said that the letter which we'd been expecting had arrived. She said I should read it.
I grabbed it. Heart pounding. I practised my neutral face with my mother. I haven't done it in a while so I hoped I hadn't lost my touch.
She left me to read alone. There where only three outcomes that, that letter could have given me. The first was a fate worse then death. The second wasn't as bad but yet it would hurt all the same. The last was what I'd been hoping for in my dreams. Complete and utter exile of my life. Pure freedom is what it was.
The letter dragged on and on. At one point I had to stop and start again because I thought it was what I dreaded the most. The first fate. So I started again and I was mistaken. It wasn't the first fate. It was the second. I think my heart stopped a few beats from joy that I wouldn't have to kill myself and from the realisation that I'll be trapped for the years until I reach my eighteenth birthday. It seems like centuries until it would come.
I was in absolute shock. My mother came into my room and asked how I was and what I thought. She thought it was a good thing that it turned out this way. I don't see how, and I know it's not my ignorance and my being an adolescent, because I know that if she had to go through with the punishment that I must go through she would crumble at the phone. Even the fact that I didn't do anything wrong and still must be punished doesn't matter. THIS punishment kills me.
So I did something that I hadn't done in a long time. I asked to go for a walk. I put my Ever Last jacket on and my Chucks over my school uniform, grabbed some coins and went. At first I thought I'd go to the city and take refuge at Borders. My ever loving rescuer, but by the time I would get there it would be closed. So I was lost. Not a clue on where to go or what to do. I thought of going to a friend, but even the thought made me internally yell at myself. How could I be so selfish?
I stood on the walking path for a few minutes until I knew, myself, what to do. Then I decided to get a Slurpee. It was a distance away so I could walk and have time to think. I bought my Slurpee and then I let my feet take me wherever they will. I thought and walked and drank, and suddenly it rained. I'm not talking about a little drizzle. I'm talking about buckets of water down my back. I was frozen and drenched from head to toe with a Slurpee in my hand which felt like an ice block. By the time I realised where I was it didn't matter that I was soaked. I just kept on walking lazily further away from my house, sucking on my Raspberry bevy of choice and frost cold water running down my body. When I finished my drink I decided that I should go home. I took a deep breath and turned around. Casually strolling up the road. When I arrived at the front of my house I zipped up the saturated jacket and put on the hoodie, to make it look like I tried to not get wet. When in truth, by the time I noticed the rain it was too late.
I stumbled through the door and took my shoes off. Ah darn! I was meant to wear them tomorrow. Oh well.
I said hello to my mother and started writing. So here I am. A lost but not totally ruined student telling the blogging world her pathetic life story, without trying to give away what truly is the matter.
So I must go. I am still dripping and ought to have a shower. So much for 'just a quick post.'
Am I going crazy?
Should I stop this?
It really sounds worse then it is. If someone told me that all this [including things that I don't talk about] happened to them, I would just say that it'll get better in time. Thinking that it's not that much of a big deal. Because it's not. Even the harsher, cut throat details aren't life changing or even grim.
Goodnight.
-AntidoteForTheViolentHills
