Random bits of writing

Pulling into a nearby truck stop he looked around with eyes that were not exactly his and not exactly sane. Finding a one at the truck stop wasn’t difficult, since he got back he could feel them. It was almost like it was a part of him. Right now the pull was so strong he barely could conceal his need.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked the blond standing just inside the door. The blond was just passably pretty.

“Sure sugar,” It replied with a smile.

“Wouldn’t you rather have something else?” Jared grinned, this was way too easy.

“What did you have in mind sugar,” she dropped her voice into an almost sexy southern drawl.

Jared grinned a lopsided grin that he knew was irresistible before grabbing her hand and leading her towards the bathrooms at the back of the bar. Too easy, he thought, Way too easy.” She allowed him to lead her undoubtedly thinking of him as her next victim.

They entered the truck stops only bathroom. The smells struck Jared immediately, piss and various other substances he didn’t want to know about assailed him. Without preamble he pushed her up against the wall his hands pushing her skirt up around her waist. He reached for the knife at his back and grinned at her wickedly.

“A bad boy huh?” she smiled at him still not understanding. He slid the knife under her panties slicing them cleanly from her body. He didn’t really want her. He wanted someone he could never have. The blond ground against him as her panties fell to the floor. He shivered thoughts of Morgan shimmering through his mind making him rock hard. He unzipped his jeans with his free hand and hoisted her up against the wall. He entered her quickly, roughly. She just laughed taking his length into her. Jared began to rock against her their bodies making a wet sound along with the thud of her hips against the wall he held her too. He grinned as she rode him squealing at the sensation. His other hand came up the knife still gleaming wickedly. He put it against her throat so it bit into her flesh with each thrust of his body into hers.

“Like it rough?” she asked not realizing that the knife was cutting into her with each movement until she felt the cold length of it pressing into her throat. Jared continued to pound into her his eyes clouding over with bloodlust as he watched the dark red liquid slide down her neck staining her white blouse. He leaned forward to lap at the wound. There was something darkly erotic about sucking the blood from the slit he’d made. The knife dropped and clattered to the floor as he leaned in tasting her, his teeth making marks as he sucked at the wound widening it. The blond began to feel his blunt teeth she tried desperately to move his head away from the wound. He continued to move inside her warmth spreading through his body as he lapped greedily at the blood not caring that he was now tearing into her neck.

His arm came up his hand wrapping around her throat and squeezing as she began to make pained noises. He dug his teeth into her shoulder trying to find purchase on her blood slicked skin. His hand tightened into a punishing grip, the blond gasped and tried to pull away as he pounded into her his teeth finally breaking the skin on her shoulder.

“You!” she whispered through his constricting grip. He leaned back for a moment never losing rhythm as he fucked her.

“Yes, me.” He stated simply pausing for only a moment to watch her terror filled eyes. So nice, the wicked thing that was the voice in his head whispered More, it pleaded and he was all too happy to comply as the power rushed through him. He began to concentrate on his movements as he slammed into her cracking the mirror behind her head. She went limp as he came inside her, the blood coursing through him as he pulled the life from her body. He stopped moving pulling out of her and watched as the light slowly left her eyes.

He dropped her body on the ground tucking himself back into his jeans and buttoning them up. The power coursed through his body. He looked down at the girl before him, a girl he could have saved but for the amount of blood he took from her. She lay bleeding still the breath long since gone, the life gradually leaving her.

Jared sighed softly instantly regretting what he’d done to the girl. He moved over to the sink and stared at himself in the cracked and faded mirror. Blood covered the lower half of his face. He rinsed it off and picked up the knife. Just do it, the dark voice whispered, Do it and you will never have to go through this again. He unfastened the leather band that he wore around his wrist. He growled softly pain lancing through him as he sliced the top of his arm creating a perfect bleeding line deep but not deep enough to need stitching. Thankfully Morgan kept the knives sharp. This cut would join the other striped scars on his wrist some new others long since scarred over. He snapped the leather back over the bleeding wrist and watched it as it turned darker blood seeping from around it. He cleaned himself up checking his shirt for telltale signs of what he’d just done. He picked the girl up and put her into one of the stalls where she wouldn’t be found for a while. He closed his eyes for a moment, “I’m sorry,” he whispered not knowing to whom.

Screaming Infinity, It was Bound to Happen

What is the next rush? When is the next time? When will I feel like this again? I sit and wait for it knowing that the next rush is right around the corner. I am trapped lately though. Stuck on the merry go round that just won’t stop and let me off. The cats chase the horses round and round until the spinning goes to my head and my eyes roll back. I doubt there is someone who can actually make my eyes roll back in my head but it is good to dream and it is the only time that I feel absolute freedom and hope.

I am not sure if I am tired because I am pushing myself or if I push myself because I am tired and hurts so bad that I can’t scream once because I will never stop. The truth is I guess I am just tired. I want to know that the things that I believe in are real but there is no proof. I don’t want to say that I won’t take anything on faith but I know too many people suffering right now. I know to many people screaming for death or screaming for life to take things on simple faith.

I explained the problem with me once before and I don’t think they quite got it. I am not right, there is something about me that screams when I try to be normal. When I don’t scream it drives me mad. “Down the rabbit hole Alice” A large part of me is dying slowly while the rest of me just hasn’t caught up yet. I could love but am no longer sure what that is in some ways I don’t think I ever did. The ones who I loved are all gone now and I am by myself in a house filled with people. If their kind of love is what brought me to this point then I am not sure I want to know what love is.

Ever see what is going to happen before it does?

Remember the blog post on things that cannot be unseen… yeah I live in that dark and sweaty world. It is extremely disconcerting because there is nothing that is comfortable about a juxapostian.

What Happens When I Can’t Handle It

I know I should be able to take it with a grain of salt but I can’t. It eats me alive when it is like this because it shows things that I don’t want to see. They have no idea what they do to me. There is no answer to this. I should have stayed in my quiet reclusive state without any contact.

This is one of those days that I have gotten nothing done and can feel the glass writhing under my skin trying to break free. The shards just cut and slice deeper and I can’t do anything to stop it and I am not sure I would if I could. Sometimes pain is better than anything else at least it lets me know that I am alive. Unfortunately I should have stayed in my quiet corner and in my quiet home deep underground with the glass surrounding me. At least I know it I know what it does and why it does it.

Tonight I am so very disappointed. But then again I should know what to expect from people by now.

options-pain-suffering-option-best-demotivational-posters

On Suicide Cutting and Other Things That Make People Cringe

I have often said that suicide is the point where a persons pain outweighs their ability to cope. Some of us cut ourselves for that endorphin rush that follows. The physical pain outweighs the emotional for just a while. It soothes what is wrong with us. Those of use who cut know why we do it. Those that don’t will never understand the brief respite that it brings.

As all of you have probably guessed I include pictures with many of my posts. These are pictures that affected me in one way or another. They meant something to me. I have been looking for one in particular. It seems that no one has been able to capture the haunted hunted look that I see in my eyes when I look in the mirror. Perhaps that is why I stay away from mirrors.

People see the scars and ask. I tell them that yes I did it to myself, yes I had a reason, and yes I wear the scars proudly. They are a sign that I am still alive, still me, and still breathing for the moment.

I have been asked why I don’t raise my voice and why I don’t scream. I don’t scream because I am afraid I might never stop.

An empty room with an empty girl sits silently on the floor she stares at the exposed skin and drags the blade and presses in the comfort that this action brings are worth the scars that will not have the chance to heal soon she will know what it is like not to feel.

let it be