Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, sensing the minutes tick by for what seemed like the hundredth night in a row; Cassie knew the feeling well. . Every few minutes or so her eyes would flick over to the glowing red numbers as they grew closer and closer to the time her alarm would go off, signalling a new day. The demonic red numbers switched to three in the morning, and the time for sleep fell to four hours. Cassie forced an inhale, and then breathed out slowly. It had been hours now, since she had persuaded herself to lie down in bed, yet her mind was still reeling from the day previous. It wasn’t as if anything spectacular had happened, those sorts of events seemed to save themselves until Cassie was already near a breaking point. Today …show more content…
had been just another in a series of what should be normal days. As if her mind would ever let that happen. She lay still in bed, slowly moving her eyes around the room so they wouldn’t dry out again. That was always an uncomfortable feeling. Sometimes she would get so caught up, mind spinning with everything she had messed up in the day, each idiotic word that had slipped out and forever haunt her, she would stare at the dark wall in a trance like state until her eyes burned. Eventually it would get to a point where she was jerked out of her thoughts and forced back into reality. Having learnt this lesson, now she tried to keep her eyes moving. In a pendulum motion Cassie’s eyes flicked from her window, barely noting the little bit of moonlight that leaked through her curtains, to the door where light from the hall crept in. Though the lighting was dull at best, Cassie had long since adapted her eyes to make out her bedroom in all its compulsively organized glory, with the scent of burnt out candle looming in the air. As though on a timed system, Cassie’s eyes flicked back to the window and she mechanically reached for her phone, putting in headphones. She had begun to notice that each night, there came points where her ruminations seemed to peak. Turning up the volume and she began flickering her eyes around to its beat, trying her best to drown out her thoughts from the hours before. As the songs came and went, Cassie felt her anxious mind give way to a much more morose one. She knew it was her own doing; in fact it was the music’s sole purpose really. Slow, haunting lyrics filled her head, blocking out thoughts of fear and instead allowing ones of dejection to enter, numbing her body and mind. Inhaling, exhaling, Cassie embraced the destructive thoughts she had blocked out all day in lieu of appearing tenacious and ready for the world. She knew this would only be able to keep up for a short time. She had learned long ago the consequences of indulging in this feeling for too long; those same consequences were much harder to hide in the light of day. It always amazed Cassie what a few well-placed smiles and laughs could hide. As the first tear rolled down, she realized that this particular escape had run its course. Placing her phone back on the nightstand, she noticed the slew of messages she had failed to respond to from the past few hours. Numbly, she added these to the ammo of self-destructive thoughts that would assault her with the cessation of her music. Returning her gaze to the ceiling, once again her day came back. Should she have thanked the bus driver as she exited? Tomorrow, how would she avoid taking yet another newspaper so as not to feel guilty about the man handing them out. The girl’s shoe that Cassie had stepped on the back of on the stairs, was she complaining about Cassie’s incompetence to her friends? Surely Cassie’s own friends were growing sick of her at this point; maybe she should just cut it off now. Not unfamiliarly, her mind seemed to reinforce each of these ideas as they marched by. As soon as the first worry leaked in, the floodgates opened.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten more than one or two hours of sleep, which was affecting her ability to coherently perform necessary tasks, which definitely impacted all the work she did horribly and that meant that she had probably failed most assignments and so really, it was pointless to keep trying and so the to-do list grew higher and higher until it was wavering over Cassie, threatening to collapse and bring down the precariously put together life she had tricked everyone into thinking she had…
…This of course would then reveal her as the insane person she was sure she was now becoming and ward off any of the people who had somehow managed to stay in her life up until now, but since she couldn’t even answer a couple of damn texts, all her relationships would die out. Suddenly she would be alone and probably end up homeless because no one wanted anything to do with her and the doctors had given up and her mother’s pitying stare would pierce her like a thousand
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knives… One after another they fired at Cassie, each ripping old wounds wide open. Her eyes were stinging as if there was battery acid poured in them, eyelids refusing to close and her breathing was no longer controlled. Her heartbeat was a thundering racehorse and her limbs were shaking uncontrollably while simultaneously petrified and unable to move or break free of this sheer hysteria that had Cassie in its poisonous claws. Half falling out of her bed, Cassie propelled herself to the bathroom landing hard on her knees as she heaved dryly trying to force the panic out of her body until her heartbeat was manageable and her legs were no longer mimicking that of a baby deer.
Leaning her clammy forehead against the cool porcelain, Cassie braced herself for what was about to come after the commotion she had made.
“Cassie, are you awake? Are you all right in there? I could hear the door slam from down the hall. Do you need me to come in?” came the voice of her mother.
Swallowing back her panic for a moment, Cassie smiled to herself and forced a laugh. She almost believed it herself. For a moment, she indulged in the idea of actually answering her mother’s questions; how different her life would be if she could just let someone in. It was only fleeting.
“Ma, I’m fine. Must’ve been still half asleep, go back to
bed.” Cassie could hear her mother’s mumbles as a sign of acceptance and waited until she heard the bedroom door close before rising from the floor. Breathing in the tart scent of nail polish remover that filled the bathroom, Cassie forced herself to focus only on concrete senses until her mind was cleared; one final moment of peace on the cool floor before rising. Throat now burning, she filled and emptied a single glass of water, and steeled herself for the walk back to bed and the jail cell of a mind that awaited her. As Cassie shuffled back into the dimly lit bedroom and took the uniformed steps back into the blankets, she felt the maniacal whirling of her mind beginning again. Beat down once again, Cassie picked up her headphones and started her rotating eye cycle again. The blood red numbers ticked over to four, signalling now three hours until her new façade began.
Cassie would not apologize because she did not do anything wrong. Lillian Jean told her to get in the road. Cassie refused. Then out of the blue, Mr.Simms grabbed Cassie’s arm and twisted it and said, “Get on the ground.” He pulled her on the ground.
The window was cold to the touch. The glass shimmered as the specks of sunlight danced, and Blake stood, peering out. As God put his head to the window, at once, he felt light shining through his soul. Six years old. Age ceased to define him and time ceased to exist. Silence seeped into every crevice of the room, and slowly, as the awe of the vision engulfed him, he felt the gates slowly open. His thoughts grew fluid, unrestrained, and almost chaotic. An untouched imagination had been liberated, and soon, the world around him transformed into one of magnificence and wonder. His childish naivety cloaked the flaws and turbulence of London, and the imagination became, to Blake, the body of God. The darkness lingering in the corners of London slowly became light. Years passed by, slowly fading into wisps of the past, and the blanket of innocence deteriorated as reality blurred the clarity of childhood.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
That was too much for Cassie though, and she wouldn’t get in the street. Then Mr. Simmes, the father of Lillian Jean, pushed Cassie into the street for not listening to Lillian. Then Big Ma came out of the law firm and Cassie got up and ran to Big Ma. Then they made Cassie apologize and then they got in their wagon and went home. Cassie realized that everyone isn’t always treated the same.
Cassie doesn't realizes there more unsolved homicides. They started a natural program to help other people out.there was a killer there and they striked. They done a legal game with the killer. The game is cat and the mouse.
Most days she was able to start sensing things around her as well as hear. It could be quite dull now. The only ones that visit her anymore are her parents and her fiancé. Or...he used to...she couldn't tell if their relationship had changed. It was hard to tell these things when you cannot speak, touch, or even blink
She let out a groan, “What?” There was no reply. So she trudged upstairs and found her parents standing by the back door with their bags packed. “What’s this?” Larisa asked with aggression.
It was six in the morning on a summer Sunday and Percival woke. No matter how much he wanted to sleep in, it never happened. Like clockwork, his eyes opened at the same time every morning, rain or shine, summer or winter, regardless of what time he’d gone to bed the previous night. He had grown used to it, and tried his best to get to bed early.
Celine was still in a sea of grief because a couple days ago she found out her best friend Jasmine died. When Celine was going to school the past week she noticed Jasmine wasn't there, so she kept texting her but Jasmine never replied. Finally, Celine got really worried because Jasmine never missed more than one day of school.
“Yes, mum,” Ellie answered, though she did not know, why her mother was so upset. Ever since her father didn’t come back from the hospital, her mother was ridiculously scared of everything, connected to cars. Ellie didn’t like to think of her father. Everytime she thought of him, she remembered the day, when everyone she knew came to the church, dressed in black, and cried like mad. And that was a very sad memory. But the good thing about being five years old was the fact that things like that are easily forgotten, especially if your mother doesn’t like to talk about them either.
There is a highway but unlike others. Its not often used . But under the stars and the darkness of the sky the full moon shines brightly , illuminating the land. The land that the highway was painfully carved into. Upon that high way that was curved and twisted in odd way, there was a girl in the back of the truck bed.
Her feet were next to the pillow that separated us, her head lay on the pillow by the end of the bed, and her hair spread into a fan beneath her head. “What time is it? I’m still tired,” Alexis complained groggily as she momentarily frowned and sat up; running a hand through her hair. Slowly, she crawled out of bed and for the rest of the morning, all five girls focused on getting ready for Disneyland and packing our bags.
I pull into her driveway, hands gripped firmly on the rubber steering wheel of the van. Dirt crunches beneath the wheels, a satisfying sound. Autumn has long since settled upon us and the trees sprung from the freshly cut grass resemble paint splattered against a dark canvas. Now outside of the vehicle, I inhale, closing my eyes, and smile. Fresh air washes over me.
I want to die, and it was the worse feeling in the world. Open mouth. Lungs. Air in, air out. Nothing was happening.