Friday, 7 August 2009

"get well soon"

Hold on. Please, just hold on a little longer. It will end soon. Everything. Just hold on until then.
But you don't understand, it's already falling, the words that you're crying; they barely exist. *I'm desperate*
Argue and we're gone. We can get through. Just hold my hand. Do not let me go.
Even in this midst of angst and outrage and furious guilt, you say; nay, INSIST upon you're truth being just that. The truth.
Can you not hear that? Tell me you are just angry. The screams. The rips. Injected is silence. Bleak as Winter. Cold and merciless. And still you question?
You lie. There is nothing. Nothing to hold onto. Nothing worth clinging to. Nothing.
You have to. Forget the rest. Now is what matters. They will come and take you away if you do not close you mouth and hold on.
To WHAT? What are you talking about? Who will come? There is no one. It is gone.
Shut up. Just shut up. *i almost lose my nerve but in a place like this, that would be suicide- just keep breathing*It's here and we can fix it. Everything can be made better. We still have time.
I have spent far too much of said time, looking after you. Let go of me. *My voice is raised and I keep it there.*
They are coming. They are coming. They heard you and they are coming*Before I can stop myself, I've thrown a fist towards him*
"Joe?" I call gingerly as I step into his room. I know that it has happened. It has happened again. "Joe?"
The smashed mirror, the twisted terror on Joe's distorted face.

"Mum?" He comes to, a lost look in his tear-filled eyes that shakes me. He looks like a small boy again. I take steps closer towards him, he flinches and it stabs me like a dagger. "Joe. I'm here now, we're at home, just you and me."
Joe unclenches his fists, only then do I realise that there is blood on the torn knuckles of his right hand. He stares around the room, clocking the broken mirror, "It wasn't me Mum. It wasn't-"
"I know dear. Shhh, shhh." I hold him in my arms and soothe him as his whole body shudders as he cries.
"Sorry Mum. I am so sorry."
"Shh Joe, it doesn't matter, shhh."

They told me he would be okay now. They told me that he was better

Well, that was a bit different, eh? Thought I'd put my mind to use today and write you guys a little summat summat :) I hope you like it.

DollyDot signing out.
Peace and love


  1. Cool writing, Kaytei. You might be a read this next part, but that would make a great scene in a Zombie Film. Honestly, it would (Sorry, I keep going on about Zombies nowadays)

  2. how on earth would it go well in a zombie movie? it's about mental illness... :S
    anyways, thanks for the feedback :D

  3. wow. thats some powerful mojo a-floating in this story! quite strong stuff. i think i need a stiff drink...