The Autumn Child (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sharpeningthebones) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2014-01-07 12:53 am
sharpeningthebones) wrote in rainbowfic2014-01-07 12:53 am
Entry tags:
Split ink
Name: Mallory
Story: None
Colors: Spilt Ink: It's not about who you are right now. It's about who you could be.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mental institutions.
Word count; 618
Notes: This was very hard for me to write and extremely personal. I almost didn't post it but I...Don't know, I put it up anyway.
You look out the window, your hands shaking, treas streaking your face. You know the sun is coming up because you’ve been awake for hours. The bed is too hard, your new roommate too noisy in her fitful sleep. The edges of light tease the darkness and you hold your breath, knowing full well you can’t hold it for the entire sunrise, though you wish you could.
In this place, you don’t know who you are. You feel lost and small and stripped of who you had been. They take away your clothes, letting you keep the ones they deem fit. Your music and books are not permitted either. They take away the things you can lose yourself in and leave you with endless hours with nothing to do.
You can socialize, talk to the other people who are trapped in their own private madness, or you can play cards. You don’t want to play cards and you don’t want to be social. You’re not here to make friends, you’re here because…Because there was nowhere else to go. Because it was this or fall deep into a darkness that you wouldn’t escape from.
People try and talk to you and you play nice, it’s better to play nice than to shun them and make your stay longer for not being cooperative. None of them stay for too long, distracted by TV or mediation or the desire to be unconscious.
You wish you could be unconscious, it would be easier than this. Staring out a window and longing for the sun to touch your skin. You were never much of an outdoors type but you crave the sunlight now. You crave anything but pastel walls and lights that hurt when you look at them.
It’s higher in the sky now, lighting up the city outside your window. You’ve never been exploring the city the way you want to and now, you can’t help feel the itch that only comes with wanderlust. You want to travel, to see the world, to know the place that you cal home more intimately and discover new places you’ve never thought to see before.
But you know you’re not getting out of here today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after.
You’re still not stable, still not playing nice enough, still not being the person they want you to be. Maybe one day you’ll perfect the ct, learn how to bite your tongue enough that you don’t start spilling words out like a tap and digging your nails into your skin so much that blood springs forth.
That day is not today, You are not that person.
To your credit, you don’t bleed, you don’t even cry much after the tears first prick at he corners of your eyes. Your roommate doesn’t worry about you and none of the faculty is concerned about your behavior. When someone does voice a bit of concern, you say that you’re simply missing home. It’s a natural enough reaction considering the situation.
One day you’ll be a different person, you promise yourself. One day you’ll be the kind of person who doesn’t end up in places like this. You’ll be the kind of person who travels, who dances and laughs and has friends and a family they made. One day you’ll be better than this.
Until then, you just have to keep going, keep prying away the days until you’re out again, until you find light, until….Until you look back and it’s been years and years since you’ve been to a place like this.
You don’t know if that day will ever come, you can hope, you can pray, but you don’t know if you’re that strong.
Story: None
Colors: Spilt Ink: It's not about who you are right now. It's about who you could be.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mental institutions.
Word count; 618
Notes: This was very hard for me to write and extremely personal. I almost didn't post it but I...Don't know, I put it up anyway.
You look out the window, your hands shaking, treas streaking your face. You know the sun is coming up because you’ve been awake for hours. The bed is too hard, your new roommate too noisy in her fitful sleep. The edges of light tease the darkness and you hold your breath, knowing full well you can’t hold it for the entire sunrise, though you wish you could.
In this place, you don’t know who you are. You feel lost and small and stripped of who you had been. They take away your clothes, letting you keep the ones they deem fit. Your music and books are not permitted either. They take away the things you can lose yourself in and leave you with endless hours with nothing to do.
You can socialize, talk to the other people who are trapped in their own private madness, or you can play cards. You don’t want to play cards and you don’t want to be social. You’re not here to make friends, you’re here because…Because there was nowhere else to go. Because it was this or fall deep into a darkness that you wouldn’t escape from.
People try and talk to you and you play nice, it’s better to play nice than to shun them and make your stay longer for not being cooperative. None of them stay for too long, distracted by TV or mediation or the desire to be unconscious.
You wish you could be unconscious, it would be easier than this. Staring out a window and longing for the sun to touch your skin. You were never much of an outdoors type but you crave the sunlight now. You crave anything but pastel walls and lights that hurt when you look at them.
It’s higher in the sky now, lighting up the city outside your window. You’ve never been exploring the city the way you want to and now, you can’t help feel the itch that only comes with wanderlust. You want to travel, to see the world, to know the place that you cal home more intimately and discover new places you’ve never thought to see before.
But you know you’re not getting out of here today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after.
You’re still not stable, still not playing nice enough, still not being the person they want you to be. Maybe one day you’ll perfect the ct, learn how to bite your tongue enough that you don’t start spilling words out like a tap and digging your nails into your skin so much that blood springs forth.
That day is not today, You are not that person.
To your credit, you don’t bleed, you don’t even cry much after the tears first prick at he corners of your eyes. Your roommate doesn’t worry about you and none of the faculty is concerned about your behavior. When someone does voice a bit of concern, you say that you’re simply missing home. It’s a natural enough reaction considering the situation.
One day you’ll be a different person, you promise yourself. One day you’ll be the kind of person who doesn’t end up in places like this. You’ll be the kind of person who travels, who dances and laughs and has friends and a family they made. One day you’ll be better than this.
Until then, you just have to keep going, keep prying away the days until you’re out again, until you find light, until….Until you look back and it’s been years and years since you’ve been to a place like this.
You don’t know if that day will ever come, you can hope, you can pray, but you don’t know if you’re that strong.