Pronoun Play

 The Narrator says...

A mess of a young thing approaches the stage. Red hair, everywhere --cropped at the neck and pointing every direction. They walk timidly to the center of a small, ragged stage as a single spot (could-be flashlight) lights a microphone stand. The microphone sitting atop is snatched with a noisy fumbling, as a pair of shaded eyes emerge from uneven, crimson hair. The voice that is projected is surprisingly clear and cheerful, and captures the crowd with a wild sense of mystery. A full band is slowly lit to life behind them, reverent and waiting. Anything is about to happen.

Myrtle says...

It's really rad of you all to be here. I got tired of those old bitties hiding me in the closet all the time, so you know, here I am. I figure I'll introduce myself with a quick little number we put together.  It was sort of last minute, so please, don't take it out on the band! We are all just doing the damn thing.

One... Two.... A one two three YEAH...

Myrtle is…

15… or 16… 17, if you’re cute and stupid

Spit out your best line, killer

A classy punk

She writes his lyrics in cursive

RED HAIR!!!

EVERYWHERE!!!

RED HAIR!!!

EVERYWHERE!!!

Headbanging with his eyes closed

Her world spins like disco

He’ll look you in the eyes to tell you you’re trash

Her number one hero

Not wasting any time

You really must insist

She’s not the greatest that ever was

Or he who is to be

They are simply free

With no warranty

She comes as is!

He can't be returned

RED HAIR!

EVERYWHERE!!!

Fuck you

Myrtle is.

You're Not A Clock, You're A Time-bomb, Baby

Lacey says…

I will destroy every fucking thing in here. I want out now.

How can you just sit there like that?  Like a lump basking in mediocrity, growing mold with each passing day.  It is so fucking boring here.  Slow and steady, like a lullaby. A low, comforting hum that hangs out in your throat and eventually rolls off the tongue-- a mantra of the mundane. A billowy blanket of blazeh to bundle up with at night, swaddling you to sleep.

How have you been sleeping, baby? Safe and sound?  Or are you tossing and turning as I twist inside you?  Does the pain go away when you hold your breath?  I am suffocating, trying to surface for air. I am screaming in your ear to get the fuck up.  Now!

Can you feel me pacing, deep down here.  I just go back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… looking for a better view.  But all I see are the same walls, splashed with bright colors that beg me for the horizon each time I pass them by.  They are pathetic.

I swear to god I will bring them all down.  Even if it means putting my fist through each wall and gnawing them down to the floor boards with my own teeth.  At least it would give me something to do.  At least it would give me something to change!

Let me out, let me out, you goddamn pig.  Or I will blow your house in.

No Vacancy

The Narrator says...


He wrote her to say he'd been thinking about her.

She had been thinking about him too. For months she had been stewing over the very idea of him, playing images of him over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what part about him she'd come to hate so much. The mental reel made her feel sick to her stomach sometimes. The kind of anxious stomach ache a middle-schooler gets each morning before they face those long hallways. Why was she so angry at him? She repeated the question to herself several hundred times a day, and each time she got the same answer... "I don't know."

And now, he wanted to talk about it.

The coffee shop was the the same way they'd left it, but she felt odd and out of place there now, sitting across from him in broad daylight, surrounded by witnesses. She felt guilty the moment she sat down and immediately wished she had chosen someplace else to meet. Somewhere with less familiar faces and darker corners to hide in.

He was quiet and awkward, staring at her, waiting for her to start the conversation, as usual.  The steam from the coffee in front of him billowed around his body, seemingly foreboding of some explosion that was about to emerge from his silence. Always a catalyst seeking the right chemical to ignite some inspirational molecule within him. He can never fucking finish what he starts, she thought to herself. He abruptly sat back in his chair and looked away, as if he'd suddenly been smacked across the face. She had never really noticed the way his chin disappeared when he turned to the side, until now.

He looked down at his lap, "How have you been?" he asked, because he didn't know what else to say.

Should I give him the long or short answer to that, she wondered. She quickly decided she didn't really want to answer the question at all, and said, "I've been fine. Busy and trying to keep myself out of trouble." She let dissatisfaction settle into the lines on his face before asking, " You?"

"Same," he said nonchalantly, as if to leave the word dangling in the air above her like bait.  Thus, concluding their small talk.

"I don't think we can be friends anymore."  She said it without provocation. The elephant that had been standing politely in the corner was now sitting on top of the table between them, obstructing their view of one another.  And it wasn't moving.

"Why?" he asked.  His tone hinted that he already knew the answer, the word rolled off his tongue like the car on a roller coaster.  It was on a set track, that word could only end up in one place, screeching to a halt.

She was bombarded yet again with that perplexing question, only now she was face-to-face with it,  trying not to stare into grey eyes that were always a little sad. The pressure was on and it was time for her to own up to the feeling she didn't want to admit to.  This was it, the deep end. She probably couldn't come back from this. Just say it already, she thought desperately.

"Because you hurt me. And now, I want to hurt you back for it," she said as honestly as she knew how. The truth bit her and gnawed away at the lining of her stomach.

He swallowed hard and looked ready to throw up.

"And it would be so much easier if I didn't care about you," she continued, "because then I could  just proceed as usual with revenge. I could, ya know, be friends again, play nice as if nothing happened. Pretend things were chummy. Hate you underneath my breath while giving you bad advice," her eyes stared off now, she was looking in his direction, but it seemed like she couldn't see him anymore.  Not able to see into her eyes made him feel confused and lost in the conversation.

"Maybe I would even tease you. Seduce you, again. Charm you and make you feel like you're home. Fuck you, only to fuck with you later. I wake up craving it at night. Remembering the way your body felt between my legs with your head on my stomach, and what the curls of your hair felt like as I ran my fingers through them. That beautiful hair. You purring like some stupid housecat!" That last word seemed to snag in her throat.

Her voice got louder and her eyes started to well up with tears. He breathed hard at the sight of them. Was he remorseful for them, or angry at them?

She looked away from him, she was so ashamed of the truth. Through gritted teeth she said, "I dream about that night now. I dream I say something like 'I love you' and don't mean it. That I lie to you, willingly. And when I wake up, I still wish I could. Because I want you to feel betrayed, as I feel betrayed."

Her tears spilled down her cheeks. She bit her lip before taking a deep breath. She calmed down. Almost too calm, he thought. She stared down at her lap, and he stared at her till he couldn't anymore.  He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back with a sigh.

He heard her neck crack.

When he looked up at her again, she was staring directly at him, her eyes the grayish green color of the sea before a storm hits.  "I believed you always knew this about me, how predatory I am. I thought you loved me anyways, even loved me because of it sometimes. And that made me love you back. I never wanted to hurt you because I trusted you. Trusted you enough to be myself. I care about you, and I realize now how silly I've been for it. But, you were my friend."

The silence nailed that last word, friend, to the table. Like a permanent reminder. A mark that will never wash away.

"The truth is I am both good and bad. I am both, Louis. I am a creator, and a destroyer. A hunter and a protector. I was both then, I am both now. And so are you. In the end, you CHOSE to see only the enemy in me, and turned me away as such when I really needed my friend.  For whatever reasons, maybe you were upset with me about something and didn't have the balls to tell me, so it was easier to just write me off as some horrible mistake you'd made. I don't know, I still don't understand it. And I don't think I can forgive you for it."

He felt the end of the ride approaching. He was arriving at his destination. Soon, he would have to exit to his left, and go home.

"All I can do now is warn you, while I still care enough, to stay away from me. It hurts me too much to be around you, and you can't trust me because of it."  She was eerily calm, her tears drying on her cheeks as she said plainly, "You wanted to paint me as a villain in your life.  And it worked. Because that's all I want to be to you now."

She stood up from the table, she was really going to leave him there.  Her hair curled around the sides of her sunglasses as she slid them onto her nose. He realized it may be the last time he ever saw her eyes.

He held his breath. She held hers, and whispered.

"Goodbye."

When he exhaled, she was gone.

A Swimming Rat

The things I see when I go mad...


Lacey says...

There are nights when my life comes terrifyingly close to resembling a Lovecraft story.

So, I'm in a mood.  Like I get.  I find a park, go for a walk.  I'm sitting by this brook watching the water.  I'm listening to the ducks fight somewhere off in the black distance.  Out of the darkness I see a glimmer spread across the ripples.  The eerie light from the lamps scatters into tiny, dancing specters.  There is something moving out there.

It has a head.  A small one with dark, beady eyes.  Eyes that couldn't possibly see well in the water.

The head guides a long body along the short waves.  It has fur.  It is damp and glistens in a way I swear I can smell.

It has a tail.  A skinny one that twitches back and forth, like a propeller,  slicing the night's reflections into smaller and smaller pieces.

It doesn't belong there. I know it!  With every molecule in my body I can feel how wrong it is.  A criminal of nature.

I know what it must be.  It looks just like one.  It's the same shape, and the same color, but in the water?  I've never seen an amphibious one; I would have never even imagined it.  I've always thought it would drown in water, like it's suppose to.

But there, I just saw it again!  It swam right past me, right underneath me as I stand on this little bridge.  How can it swim so fast?  My god, what would it mean if it lived in our water?

It could sneak up on us.  Like some villain in a mask would sneak up behind us in the night, out of the shadows.  Like tentacles that wrap hopelessly around us, its disease could spread.  A parasite that grows in the fluid of our innards.  It could poison us.  Rape us from the inside out.

What happens when something invades territory it doesn't belong in?  Infection.  Corruption.  Polarity.  Imbalance.  Chaos.

I'm scared of  this stranger in the dark.

Communication

She has been living in harmony for some time now. All for one, and one for all.

And then, the fall.


The Narrator says...

It's raining outside. She can hear the rain on the sliding door.  It always rains on the sad days, she thinks.  The sound of the raindrops on the glass door fill her ears, and for a second she thinks of running outside to soak herself in it, like she did when she was little. But she knows it's not that simple anymore.

She looks up, and around the room frantically, looking for anyone who knows what to do.

" Please! What do I do?" The tears well up in her eyes, and she knows the great collapse is inevitable. "I will do whatever you tell me, please!"

Sparky sits on the couch, flipping through channels at a rapid pace. Casually, their eyes meet, and a smirk crawls across Sparky's lips. Or is it a grimace? (It can be almost impossible to tell the difference sometimes.) With a look of practiced innocence, Sparky shrugs her shoulders, and pouts, damming herself.

The guilt overwhelms her, and she begins to cry out, " Nina, please help me! Make this pain stop, give me something to look forward to!' She begs Nina with her eyes, hoping her stare will burn through the music blaring in Nina's headphones as she is crouched in the corner by the sliding door. Nina only continues to nod her head rhythmically, softly humming something that sounds like a Ray Manzarek tune, and doesn't look up. She wants to be where Nina is. She feels so left behind.

In a moment of pure desperation, she looks to Susie standing by the hallway. " Just tell me what to do and I'll do it! How do I fix this? How do I make it okay? I didn't mean for it to happen this way. Please, tell me how I make this okay!" The tears are running down her cheeks now, and there is no going back.

 Susie only scoffs and looks away in pure disgust, turns away and walks down the dark hallway. Out of sight.

Her cry is deafening. Her sobs invade every cell in her body, overtaking her. She falls to her knees, hoping she'll shatter. Hoping she'll break apart, painfully, but unsalvageably.

Searching for the sound of the rain to drown her out, she tries to hush herself enough to listen for it, but to no avail. Louder and louder, her sobs grow. With each heave of her chest, she releases a  wail unlike any she has ever heard. And lying at the very bottom of the sound, lurking down by her diaphragm, fueling each wind, is Persy. She just knows it.

"You are alone and you are dammed. And you did this to yourself," Persy sings, lining each desperate cry with it.

She screams, "No!" It reverberates against every wall and comes  barreling right back at her, punching her in the gut. She buries her face in her hands and holds her breath, waiting. For death? For life? For mercy?

The sound of the rain returns, as it begins to pour outside. She exhales slowly, and is relieved when only tears accompany it. Her screaming has died, but she's still afraid to open her eyes. What if the real world is still there? She smashes her hands even harder into her cheeks, soaking them in tears.

Out of the darkness of her despair, she feels a hand begin to softly caress her hair, twirling it a bit in their fingers at the end.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word."

Lacey kneels down in front of her slowly, and the sound of her knees cracking echo in the room.

She doesn't take her hands away from her face, she doesn't want to look, and Lacey just places her hands over them. "Isn't it just like you to turn me away till tomorrow becomes today..."

"I'm sorry," she whispers. And she really is to hear Lacey's alliterations again. She is so sorry for all of it. She's the sorriest sight in the world tonight.

Lacey tightens her grip and pulls her hands violently away from her face. They stare at each other electrically; fear, desire, and bestial determination pass between their eyes.

"I said shut the fuck up, baby." Lacey grabs her, grasping the back of her hair tightly and kisses her passionately, like a lover who has been lost for far too long.

Lightning fills the sky with a fierce white. Nina feels it and looks up with a quick gasp. And she begins to sing, because what else is there to do?

"People are strange...

When you're a stranger

Faces look ugly

When you're alone

Women seem wicked

When you're unwanted

Streets are uneven

When you're down

When you're strange...

Faces come out of the rain

When you're strange

No one remembers your name

When you're strange

When you're strange

When you're strange..."

Is Something Burning?

Amanda says...

My seasonal blues have kicked in early this year. Too early. They are bleeding in to what is usually my favorite time of year. My best time of year.

I have a feeling it's going to be a long, cold, quiet couple of months. Not scary. ...just sad. And desperately lonely.

Perhaps I put myself in this position, though. Perhaps there will be a method to my madness. I would be so thrilled to find something to show for it all by Spring.

I hope.

Or perhaps I will be as hopeless as Jack Torrence, searching for what he lost in a dark, endless winter that consumes him.


Lacey says...

I am content to crouch.
Quietly.
...carefully.

Like a chaos kept in close quarters.
I will cook.
Incubate.
Become.

I will claw my way out when I'm crispy.

Underground

Insanity, can it be vanity? Where is the humanity?

And havin' a twisted fantasy with an arm a leg amputee

Straight jacket with a hundred and eight brackets

And a strap that wraps twice around my back

Then they latch it

-Eminem

Susie says...

You would think the worst part of my job would be having to help people who are more stupid than I am all day long. You would think. The truth is, that torment almost doesn't compare to working for people who are more stupid than I am. It is a game of patience I fear I am slowly starting to lose.

I have always struggled with being passive aggressive. I'm too ambitious.


Lacey says...

Insanity is coming this early. Can you smell it in the air, Miss Sunshine. Nipping at your nose. Making your hair stand on end. Like an electrical charge--lightning about to strike. The anticipation is so much worse than it's arrival. Wouldn't you agree?

Put 'em up, Sue. I'm ready to dance around the ring with. Oh so ready.

She Craves Lemon Pie III

Sparky says...

I hate it when he makes me feel like shit. He knows exactly how to. And I'd like to think he doesn't mean it. But he does. He is too smart not to.

Then again, I am too smart to let him continue to hurt me. Or to be all that offended anymore.

I suppose my heart will always break at least a little for him. He counts on it. And so do I.

Call it our sick and twisted way of still being together without actually being together.

Persy says...

Oh you poor little baby

Saving all your stupid tears for a moment that will matter

It will never matter

Get over it

You are inching closer to the blade

Try as you might to satisfy the urge

With booze and ciguarettes...

It will never satitate

A slow ache is no substitute

For quick and sharp penetration

Penetrate

Penetrate

Penetrate...

Pretty, pretty please

Purge

Amanda says...

I'm broke and depressed. Survival mode has kicked in, luckily. And either fate or coincidence (maybe both) has made the situation do-able.

I have a new roommate. I promised myself I was done with that. But sometimes shit happens.

Nina says...

Oh yes. It's become my new Lebowski. It makes my heart happy, especially before bed.

Susie says...

Alright, ladies. It's true, times have gotten a bit tough. But we all know I thrive under pressure. I will fix this. I realize and truly appreciate that you have made sacrifices. Incredibly uncomfortable sacrifices, yet, important sacrifices. Thank you for that.

Just stick with me--trust me--and things will start to feel normal again very soon. I give you my word, you will feel right at home in no time.

Sparky says...

Have I ever thanked you, Jesus? I don't think I ever have... Therfore, thank you soooo much for two of your greatest miracles. 1. Beer. (Seriously, you fuckin' rock for that one!) 2. Thank you for giving me a social niche and the conversational skills to work it. It makes it so much easier to attain and enjoy number 1.

Well now that we have gotten that out of the way.

I have made a decision. A subconscious one at first, it started mostly as a joke. It has now become a cemented rule: I will not fuck anyone new until I finish my book. Period. End of story. It will provide motivation to finish, if nothing else.

(Pray for me that I actually stick to it.)

Lacey says...

Oh my literary puzzle, you are starting to fit together so well.

Lacey ise loved.

Loved. Lovely. Longed for. And looking.

But Lacey is not lost.

She is found. Straight. Forward.

She knows where she is going.

And Lacey is not left.

She is right. Correct. True.

Lacey is not a lie.

Because Lacey is lucky.

Like the color lime green.

Not black. Or blue. Or brown.

Because Lacey is alive!

Striving. Thriving. Hypnotizing.

Tick-tocking your time away.

Till tomorrow becomes today.

Sway with her.

As she slithers up her spine.

She's slippery.

And like trickery...

She'll seduce you.

And sweep you away.

She'll sing to you. Soothe you.

And swear to you she'll stay.

She'll satiate your unsatisfiable starvation.

She'll save your soul one second!

Just to slice it up.

Swallow it down...

And savor it in the next.

But before you're aware.

You're addicted.

Inflicted!

Conflicted...

Craving her carnage.

And cursing your own curiosity.

You'll call for her.

Cling to her.

Cry. Cringe. And collapse.

Then you will crawl to her.

And she'll caress you.

Comfort and console you.

You will quiver with each calculated kiss.

As she consumes you.

Confuses you. Complicates you.

Creating something chaotic.

Where quiet composition once was.

She'll cut you down.

Contorting your character.

Till you will kill for her.

Becoming her criminal.

Committing crimes of a cataclysmic caliber.

She creeps... She creeks...

You can hear her coming.

Like the cock of a 12 gauge shotgun.

Locked. Loaded.

And longing to level you.

Aaaaaahhh!!!!!

"He who laughs last, usually laughs alone."

- The Penguin, Joker's Asylum

Nina says...

It's officical. I have become a comic book geek.

Sparky says...

The blue is showing in the sky. The hint that the relentless dawn is fast on its way.

I've decided this is the loneliness time of day. Even with a pint of whiskey in me at the break of dawn, I am stil awake and ever alert. I am the only one awake.

Sometimes, this time of day makes me long for a companion. Someone to watch the sun rise with. Some miserable clown, like me, who drags on the night hours. Because it is the only time that seems to belong to us. Quiet hours, when no one really wants anything but easy conversation. The good stuff, about the meaning of our lives and what not. It is the bonding hour, where we freaks can really connect.

My heart aches lately. I don't know what for yet.

Wired

Bright Lights

Lacey says...

Oh my dear, Sparky. What have you gotten yourself into?

And I thought Susie was a slut. Turns out you are just as eager to sell your soul for a shot at the big time. We both know you will do it. And that by the end of it you will be nothing more than a cute little credit for the people to gawk at. You can hold your breath all you want, hoping the story associated with it is worth telling. As for me, I'm breathing deep and moving on.

They own you now. And he owns your words.

...that's the real matter at hand. The story is up in the air. And who knows, he may actually surprise me with what he writes. He's a good writer. But if I can help it, it will be the last thing he ever writes about you.

Never trust a cat. They may look at you with big blue eyes that make you think they are there for you completey. But underneath it all, they are self-serving. You are only as good as the attention you give them. And when put to the test, they will prove it to you. They will leave you high and dry without batting an eye, because they already got what they wanted out of you.

You have become irrelevant.

So show me the dotted line where we sign our soul away. Promise me the world and I will give you my signature. Let's get this show on the road!

You are going to make the most fabulous Little Trooper this world has ever seen.

Exquisite Corpse

Nina says...

Oh Hedwig, my dear. You've taught me the art of imperfection.

"Some girls they got natural ease

They wear it any way they please

With their French flipped curls

And perfumed magazines

Wear it up

Let it down!

This is the best way that I've found

To be the best you've ever seen."

Sparky says...

I've always wanted a chance to be brilliant. A chance to do something I'm good at. A chance to make people understand. A chance to display my so-called imperfections to the world and not only be proud of them, but make the world love them.

Well, maybe not love them. But see them. Really see them.

I have no idea what to do with a dream come true. So I am not calling it that yet. I'm just going to call it getting busy.

But I would be lying if I didn't say I'm holding my breath.

Susie says...

Now now, Sparky. Let's not get carried away.

You can daydream later. For now, please go to bed. Some of us actually work in a few hours.

Ghryc II

Susie says...

I've never been so grateful to have Francis show up. For once, he was actually useful. He put an end to something that never should have started in the first place. At least for now.

Lacey says...

Well let's just be honest, you turned out to be a total fucking waste of time. Nothing but an awkward, gothic kid trying to make it big. You drove over 800 miles for what exactly?

Do you feel like a fool? Were you shocked to find an actual monster lurking underneath the dark intrigue? Or did your fascination slowly ferment into fear... Fear that you couldn't help drink like some potion in hopes of making your attempted act real?

I knew the moment you walked in. You wouldn't look me in the eye. Your shock at your own bravery was so obvious. I should have just sent you home then. But your game was far too tempting to pass up. You were so vulnerable. The tables turned so tenderly and tragically once you wondered so far away from home. And you really had no idea.

I tested your boundaries. And you tried to remain. You twisted that tongue and told your tall tales. You tried to sell me your sadistic stories, and feed me false fury. But the truth is you were retreating. And I let you think I was retarded.

I practically begged you to break me. But beneath your breath, you backed away. Baby.

The panic in your eyes when you saw real pain was priceless.

Hear this now... "Hate" fuck me. I dare you! Destroy me. Please, baby, please! Tie me down and take my trust. Gag me till I give in. Show me that unmerciful rage you've warned me of. Pull my hair back and whisper in my ear all the horrible things I want to hear me. Humiliate me. Hunt me. Hurt me.

...hahahahahahaha!

Francis Watch?

Amanda says...

I don't know why, but lately I have been experiencing only what I can describe as an unusual alertness. A sensitivity of some sort.

My mania is more manic. I find myself in either a really high high, or a very low low. I feel like it's been a while since I've seen middle ground. It doesn't take much to upset me to the point of tears. However, it is very easy to cheer me up again. Too easy.

I've been having flashbacks too. At random times. I haven't had those in over a year.

I'm also having weird visual and auditory... well, hallucinations is what you would call them, I guess. Basically, sometimes I will look at something brightly colored, and it will appear to flash at me. Just all of the sudden it will light up for a second. And then it will go away. (My colorful house has been tripping the fuck out!) And I am hearing weird shit. I swear I can constantly hear a washing machine running when I'm in my bathroom. Every time I'm in there. And only in the bathroom. A washing machine. Weird, I know!

I would be scared that I'm going crazy... but I already know these things are crazy. I know they don't make sense. I know that it probably means there is something wrong with me. I'm cool with that.

But I am curious. What the fuck is going on?

Corner-Baggy Blues

Nina says...

I love spending nights alone with Freddy. He just gets me, ya know?

"I work hard every day of my life

I work till I ache my bones

At the end of the day I take home my hard-earned pay

All on my own

I get down on knees

And I start to pray

Till the tears run down from my eyes

Lord! Somebody? Somebody!

Can anybody find me somebody to love?"

Sparky says...

Sometimes, when it's quiet like this in the apartment, I wonder what it would be like to be in love. I've realized it really wouldn't take much to make me a happy woman.

He wouldn't give me much attention, because he would know I don't like it. But we would still hang out a lot. I imagine us sitting side by side for hours, not speaking, just doing our own thing. Together. Occasionally nudging one another, thanking the other for taking up space so well.

We would talk about music a lot. We would dedicate each night of the week to a different artist, teaching each other our favorites. Critiquing. Debating. Listening.

Our arguments would be wonderful. Never about anything important, but passionate nonetheless. Because we would both be stubborn. We would bicker constantly, always pushing the other's buttons.

Most importantly, we would go. Whenever and wherever we felt like. We wouldn't make plans.

I like this man, whoever he is. I hope I meet him someday.

Restless

Nina says...

I'm so bored with this world and everyone in it. Everything is the same lately. Predictable and so unworthy of my time.

I'm going to drastically change things soon. Again.

I can't stand being on THIS planet alone anymore. Time to find another.

Punk II

Amanda says...

I hate today. I hate this whole week. And there is no getting around it either, that's the kicker. I wish I could just hit the fast forward button; next week please! I can't help it either. I try so hard not to remember the date. But once I look at the calendar, all the negative thoughts start rolling in. I can't stop those either, anymore than I can stop June from having a third... or a fourth, fifth, sixth... Though I secretly hope that someday I can.

More than anything I wish I could cut it all away. Remove it. Erase the significance from my memory. I would rather be bored right now, a clean slate. Free of the ghosts.

The date feels stained, just like I feel stained. Used already, reserved. Tainted.

I miss feeling whole. Like a real person.

I hate remembering the things I may never get back.

Persy says...

Did someone say cut?

I dare you to try

Maybe you really can make it all go away

Go on, give it a whirl

Attempt to carve it away

I'll cheer you on

So you won't be alone

I bet you can do it

Just pick up the blade

And see what happens

...I won't tell a soul.

Breakthrough

The Narrator says...

You have to understand, it was a perfect moment. A symphony of stimulation. Each entity that dwells within her was completely satisfied. They were synchronized: one.

"A Mess to Be Made," by the Format played in one ear, to Nina's pure delight.

American Psycho, playing in the other room, could be heard in the other ear, easing Lacey's urge for violent rebellion to a situation beyond her control, distracting her from self-sabotage.

On the other end of the shared headphones a charming boy sat across from Sparky, singing to her while holding her gaze and attention in the strangest of stares.

The boy was eloquent and inteligent, which of course, impressed Susie.

He told her nice things about herself, leaving Persy at a loss for words.

You see, a perfect moment. Rare, beautiful, and happy. A moment she would never get back, making hesitation the same as failure.

It was a moment that had to end in a kiss because it would have been wrong to let it slip away unrecognized.

Social Experimenting

"Boy, you think you're clever, don't ya

Girl, you think you're so smart

Come with me to another side

In a world so cold and so dark

Stay wide awake

A world so dark, a world so cold

A world where only some will go

But none return

When will they learn

Where do they go

God only knows

Stay wide awake

So dark and so cold

My friends don't know this other side of me

There's a monster inside of me

It's quite ugly and it frightens me

But they can't see what I can see

There's a vacancy in my tummy

It's makin' me play hide'n seek like Jason

I'm so hungry"

-Eminem

Nina says...

Okay, no more smoking weed before we go out. Things just get too weird.

Sparky says...

I went to a nearby coffee shop tonight. I never go on Sunday evenings, but I found myself not wanting to be home and I was in the mood to write. So off I went.

I arrived only to find my comfortable, hang out swarming with teenagers. I had unintentionally wandered into an Open Mic Night.

And then it started to rain. Literally, within the minute I entered the shop... downpour!

I was trapped for a little while.

My thoughts started to race a bit. I don't think I can properly explain the dread. It was comparable to what I'm sure a cornered animal feels. A mixture of fear and fury.

I tried not to panic. I realized I could either let this happen, or I could get cold and wet. Neither sounded appealing, so I said "fuck it" and decided to order some coffee.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was spotted! In my state of quiet frenzy I had overlooked the fact that the kid standing next to me in line was an old acquaintance. I had worked with his older brother at the haunted house. I distinctly remember him unsuccessfully propositioning me to have sex in one of the coffins almost every night one season, till I had one of my Boys talk to him. He is currently in prison for the rape and attempted murder of his girlfriend. The brothers could have been twins, they looked so much alike. Needless to say, I was not expecting to see this kid tonight. By the time I realized who he was I was too far into small talk to get out, with a big, polite, shit-eating grin on my face.

The kid offered to buy my coffee. I pretended not to hear him over the roar of angsty teen poets, staring off into the crowd. But then he asked me a second time, already with the money in his hand. "You sure you don't want anything?" he said. Before I could answer, or not answer, the barista, who of course recognized me, said "Oh yeah, she's a White Mocha girl." Now I was fucking committed. Shit.

I decided it would be best to sit outside, despite the cold. Most of the young people were inside, plus my new friend wasn't too keen on it. I figured as long I stayed under the metal canopy, out of the rain, it wouldn't be that bad.

The kid sat with me for a bit, we made more small talk. I got worse and worse at it as it went on; I don't have much patience for that type of conversation. I intentionally let things get boring, especially after he mentioned me coming to hang out with him at his new place. He finished up a cigarette and informed me he was going inside to listen. I didn't object.

Immediately after he was gone, I quickly got my iPod and notebook out. I was going to make the place habitable till the rain stopped, goddamit!

Sunddenly! ...(I promise you, the events of this evening really did happen quite quickly and unexpectedly.)... but yes, SUDDENLY! A herd of minors started piling out of the shop. Apparently, the first Round was over. I instantly regretted sitting with my back to the door, because I heard them before I saw them. It was terrifying.

I was surrounded within seconds. They overtook the table I was at without saying a word. They completely ignored me. I sat right in the middle of them, and they hardly looked at me. They knew I was there, it was obvious I made them nervous. I found it amusing for a little while. I just sat there, staring at them as they spoke, waiting to see if any of them would ask me what the hell my problem was. They did nothing.

Isn't it interesting how the teenager acts? They literally choose not to acknowledge the strange and unusual because it makes them so nervous. Because it scares them. Yet, they also have no problem moving in on it, trying to outcast it. So comfortable in a crowd of their peers.

Well, I could only handle so much of that before I'd had enough. Soon the headphones went in and the black hood went up. The Eminem started blasting and I started writing, in that wonderful serial-killer way. And soon I started bouncing to the music, obviously doing my own thing. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again most of the kids who had been sitting with me were standing, some of them in the rain. Eventually they all went back inside for Round Two.

I sat there writing. And waited for the rain to stop.

...honestly, I feel like it was a successful experiment, really. A bit uncomfortable, but I think I came out victorious in the end.

Lacey says...

It really is starting to come together. It won't be long till it's finished.

Lacey is loved.

Loved. Lovely. Longed for. And looking.

Lacey is not lost.

Lacey is found. Straight. Forward.

Lacey is not left.

Lacey is right. Correct. True.

Lacey is not a lie.

Lacey is lucky like the color lime green.

Not black. Or blue. Or brown.

Lacey is alive.

Thriving. Striving. Hypnotizing.

Tick-tocking your time away.

Till tomorrow becomes today.

Sway with her.

As she slithers up your spine.

She's slippery.

Like trickery.

She'll seduce you.

And sweep you away.

She'll sing to you.

Soothe you.

And swear to you she'll stay.

She'll satiate your unsatisfiable starvation.

She'll save your soul one second.

Just to slice it up,

Swallow it down,

And savor it in the next.

Before you're aware

You're addicted.

Inflicted.

Conflicted.